So the big question? They didn't find any cancer in my biopsy. Now, Dr. Church Lady didn't call me. I had to call her. Deep down my gut feeling was that I didn't have cancer, but then again, Jim and I never thought his tumor would be as serious as it was either, so I don't trust my gut anymore. Going what we've gone through has made me always expect the worst now, which is a helluva way to live. So Dr. Church Lady said she wants to do another test...something with the word "hydro" in it, and it involves shooting water into your uterus and taking a picture. I apparently have to pre-medicate with anti-biotics, and then Dr. Church Lady threw in...."and maybe a Tylenol." Wait....I said...is this test going to be as painful as the last one? (I figure, if she's even acknowledging "Tylenol" there must be some pain involved) and she says, "Oh no...just some cramping." Yeah, RIGHT. That's what she said about the last test and it felt like they had a string tied to my insides and were trying to pull them out. She was supposed to have her nurse call me and book it, but that never happened, so I'll hold off to call them back until after the first of the year. Jim has to work all this week and I'd have no one to take me anyway. Plus I have WAY too much stuff to do before Christmas. I need an extra two days.
I went for a shrink visit last week, and I'll tell you....my shrink is a way better doctor than my doctor. I update him on what the endocrinologist in White Plains had to say, and I bitch that I'm still fat. I tell him what I'm eating, and he says that most likely I've put myself into starvation mode. Since the body thinks there's a food emergency it's going to do all it can not to let the fat go. He suggests a B12 supplement and folic acid, and gives me instructions on exactly how much to take, and tells me to cut the pills in half and take them twice a day, or else I'll just be peeing all the vitamins out. I'm willing to try anything. In spite of taking the thyroid pills, which are supposed to increase my energy levels, I still feel like a wet noodle.
Jim went back to Dr. Vanni and got handed a bill for another $2500. We're in hurry-up-and-wait mode again. Tonight he ate something and had it stuck in his throat for a couple of hours. Jimmy and I are used to Daddy coughing stuff up into the sink on a fairly regular basis.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday November 30, 2008 10:48 a.m.
My endometrial biopsy was on Friday, and leading up to it I was having panic attacks. The most enjoyable one was last week when I had a flash in my mind of the test itself, then almost passed out on the toilet. It took me an extra hour to get ready that morning. When I get nervous about something I tend to get the runs, so my colon is nice and clean now. Who needs colon cleanse? Just freak me out and that will do it for me. Part of the reason I'm so freaked is because of what happened to me when I had Jimmy. As you all know, I almost bled to death and had three surgeries. I was told by my last doctor that if any invasive procedure was done to my uterus it would be very dangerous for me, so I've got visions of horrible infections and hemorrhage from this thing.
So Dr. Church lady brings me into the office, then she kicks Jim out. She tells me my Pap test was normal but I'm positive for HPV. There's a shitload of different types of HPV, some of which cause cervical cancer, but she doesn't tell me which type I have and my brain was so fried I didn't ask. We'll save that for another day. Now let me tell you about that biopsy. I must have been invented by some sick bastard who hated his mother. I went into that room high on two Ativans and three Darvocets, and it STILL hurt like holy hell. Dr. Church Lady is getting stern with me and telling me to "relax, Pam, you've got to relax...." and I'm in the stirrups twitching my toes. Being immobile and twitching my toes was the best I could do, but she's still yelling at me...."If I can't do this in the office we're going to have to do it in same-day surgery with anesthesia!" Well, why the hell didn't she offer me that option in the first place? That would have been my choice. Knock me the hell out already and then it probably would have saved me the panic attacks. While she's doing the test she's walking me through it, telling me what's next, and she swabs my insides with Betadine. I chime in with "Wait...I'm allergic to Betadine!" And I am. I found that out the hard way when someone gave me a catheter swabbed with it years ago. Dr. Church Lady panics and says, "I don't see that on your chart" and I said, "Well, I told your resident that the last time I was here...." She asked me what happens with Betadine, and I said, "I get burning and a rash..." Now Dr. Church Lady's got to try and flush all the Betadine out with water, but there's no way she's going to totally alleviate my reaction to it, so that only adds to the pain of the procedure. After she's done I'm crying like a baby and she tells me she might have to bring me back in for another type of biopsy....something involving water....but I was in too much pain and too high to understand what the hell she was saying, which is why she really should have left Jim in the room so someone with a clear head could have been paying attention. What I do remember is sort of foggy...she mentioned that she "didn't take out a lot of material" and "if we have to remove your uterus we'll leave your ovaries since you're still young." Lovely thought. But I won't know the results of this torture for two more weeks because now the pathologist has to look at the cells. Maybe it will be nothing, but if I do have to have surgery I don't even care. These stupid parts have given me nothing but trouble...good riddance to them if they have to go. So now I sit and wait.
So Dr. Church lady brings me into the office, then she kicks Jim out. She tells me my Pap test was normal but I'm positive for HPV. There's a shitload of different types of HPV, some of which cause cervical cancer, but she doesn't tell me which type I have and my brain was so fried I didn't ask. We'll save that for another day. Now let me tell you about that biopsy. I must have been invented by some sick bastard who hated his mother. I went into that room high on two Ativans and three Darvocets, and it STILL hurt like holy hell. Dr. Church Lady is getting stern with me and telling me to "relax, Pam, you've got to relax...." and I'm in the stirrups twitching my toes. Being immobile and twitching my toes was the best I could do, but she's still yelling at me...."If I can't do this in the office we're going to have to do it in same-day surgery with anesthesia!" Well, why the hell didn't she offer me that option in the first place? That would have been my choice. Knock me the hell out already and then it probably would have saved me the panic attacks. While she's doing the test she's walking me through it, telling me what's next, and she swabs my insides with Betadine. I chime in with "Wait...I'm allergic to Betadine!" And I am. I found that out the hard way when someone gave me a catheter swabbed with it years ago. Dr. Church Lady panics and says, "I don't see that on your chart" and I said, "Well, I told your resident that the last time I was here...." She asked me what happens with Betadine, and I said, "I get burning and a rash..." Now Dr. Church Lady's got to try and flush all the Betadine out with water, but there's no way she's going to totally alleviate my reaction to it, so that only adds to the pain of the procedure. After she's done I'm crying like a baby and she tells me she might have to bring me back in for another type of biopsy....something involving water....but I was in too much pain and too high to understand what the hell she was saying, which is why she really should have left Jim in the room so someone with a clear head could have been paying attention. What I do remember is sort of foggy...she mentioned that she "didn't take out a lot of material" and "if we have to remove your uterus we'll leave your ovaries since you're still young." Lovely thought. But I won't know the results of this torture for two more weeks because now the pathologist has to look at the cells. Maybe it will be nothing, but if I do have to have surgery I don't even care. These stupid parts have given me nothing but trouble...good riddance to them if they have to go. So now I sit and wait.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Wednesday November 12, 2008 6:20 PM
We went to White Plains again today for my follow-up with Dr. Melville. The verdict? Besides having reactive hypoglycemia, which means low blood sugar AFTER eating, I've got one messed up thyroid, despite having been on meds since May. My TSH shot up to nearly 10 when it needs to be at a minimum below 3. So everyone who yammered at me that I'm just getting to be middle-aged and should just accept my weight gain needs to eateth of the great crow bird. Dr. Melville is ditching the Armour thyroid and starting me on Synthroid, but it will take at least four to six weeks to start to work, and may even need to be adjusted further after that, so it still looks like I'm in for a long haul, but at least maybe I'm getting somewhere. If I could just get myself to the point where diet and exercise would at least PRODUCE SOME RESULTS I'd be happy. Cause diet and exercise aren't producing shit right now.
What's really sad is that I had begged Dr. Jennings to switch me months ago, but Jennings has got a real hard on for that Armour shit, and I don't know why. Probably because it's "all natural", but so is cow dung and that's not good for much other than growing plants. Dr. Melville explained that the problem with Armour is that it's made from pig thyroid, and it's very inconsistent in dosage because todays' batch of dead pigs could have been a little hypothyroid, so a pill marketed as 30 mg may only contain 20 mg, and the next batch of pigs could be hyperthyroid, so a pill marked 30 mg may actually contain 40 mg. If Jennings had at least recognized that the Armour wasn't doing it for me I could have saved myself a lot of money, time, trouble and multiple trips to White Plains. But it is what is it. Oh, and my thyroid antibodies where through the roof. High normal is 40. Mine was 275.
So we'll see. I'll hang in there and hope Melville is on to something.
What's really sad is that I had begged Dr. Jennings to switch me months ago, but Jennings has got a real hard on for that Armour shit, and I don't know why. Probably because it's "all natural", but so is cow dung and that's not good for much other than growing plants. Dr. Melville explained that the problem with Armour is that it's made from pig thyroid, and it's very inconsistent in dosage because todays' batch of dead pigs could have been a little hypothyroid, so a pill marketed as 30 mg may only contain 20 mg, and the next batch of pigs could be hyperthyroid, so a pill marked 30 mg may actually contain 40 mg. If Jennings had at least recognized that the Armour wasn't doing it for me I could have saved myself a lot of money, time, trouble and multiple trips to White Plains. But it is what is it. Oh, and my thyroid antibodies where through the roof. High normal is 40. Mine was 275.
So we'll see. I'll hang in there and hope Melville is on to something.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Tuesday November 11, 2008 7:27 PM
I had told my mother about the gyno and my fascinating "grey patch" and I can tell she's worried about me having cancer. She doesn't come out and say that, but you can just tell. Jim says he's not worried, but for the first time in nine years he wanted to try a vodka and ruby red grapefruit juice last night after I said, "Hell....I need a drink!". Jim hates alcohol. He fixed himself another one tonight. Maybe he really just wanted to try a vodka and ruby red grapefruit. I don't know...but you never know exactly what's going on in Jim's head. If I can't guess he'll fill me in a year from now. I'm so off my rocker, though....want to know the first thing that popped into MY head when I found out I needed a biopsy? "Shit...I just got my hair looking good! Sonofabitch!" But my gut feeling is that it's nothing serious, and they were probably just looking at a patch of scar tissue. After I had all those surgeries when I nearly died having Jimmy I was told by my doctors that my uterus had been reduced to nothing but a big hunk of scar tissue, which is why we never had any more kids. It doesn't happen to me much anymore because I'm an old broad now, but when I was younger it was amazing how many people made remarks about "When are you having another kid?" and I'd say, "We're not" and they'll say "Oh, you'll change your mind...." and then I'm forced into having to tell them, "I can't" which makes them feel bad. I know that people just assume that you're able to pop out kids like english muffins but it bothered me that Jim and I no longer had any say in that decision. Would we have had more? Probably not, but it would have been nice if the decision could have been ours and not pre-ordained by the condition of my body. To everyone out there....don't ever make remarks about people having more kids. You don't know the story, and you may hear more than you bargained for.
As for the theory of the patch just being scar tissue or some damage left over from my fabulous birthing experience, I found the following in the American Journal of Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and Children: "When there has been trauma inflicted upon the cervix, with resulting exfoliation of the epithelium, the abraded surface is covered with a dirty yellowish-grey patch of pseudo membrane. This is usual in streptoccic infection." And what is "streptoccic infection?" What I was loaded with after I had Jimmy. On the National Institutes of Health website, I found this: Group A streptococcus (GAS) causes a variety of human infections. It is also an uncommon but serious cause of postpartum infections...It is possible that women who had GAS as a cause of vaginal infection may have a tendency to be carriers of this organism, but this has never been proven. We believe it is of importance to determine if women who have had one infection may be long-term carriers" Anyway, that's just my theory. We'll see if I'm right. I go for the biopsy the day after Thanksgiving.
But enough of the female anatomy lesson. Now on the Jim's teeth: I had mentioned before that Vanni was not on the website as a participating dentist in our new dental plan that just started on the 1st of November. There's a guy that we work with who has dentures, and they look great. I honestly would never have guessed that the guy wore dentures until he told me, that's how convincing they look. This guy got his teeth done at a place called "Affordable Dentures", and they have several offices in New Jersey, one of which is about a half an hour from our house. Jim had gotten the website, and I called there. Affordable dentures has a lab right on the premises, and if you need work done you can come in in the morning and your dentures are ready by the afternoon. No appointment necessary...you can just walk right in. In the meantime, Jim asked Vanni if he participated in the new dental plan, and Vanni does...not in the HMO but in the PPO, which is what we have. Well, Jim was supposed to go to Vanni on the 10th but rescheduled it for later in the month so he'd have time to go check out Affordable Dentures and see if they could finish the work. We figured it's better to go to a place with a lab onsite that to have to go to Vanni and say "Hi", he reschedules for a month out, takes impressions, reschedules for ANOTHER month out, tries on the teeth, decides to make adjustments, reschedules for ANOTHER month out, and pretty soon you're looking at a year going by and you're still not done, which is where we are right now. Ridiculous. So Jim went over to Affordable today. Good news and bad news. Jim's uppers were not fitting right....he'd been having to load them with glue goop just to keep them in place. Affordable relined them today from soup to nuts and Jim got them back at 2 pm. Now he doesn't need any glue at all for them to stay in. But Affordable can't help him with the bar on the lowers to meet the implants because they don't work with Jim's model of Frankenstein bolts. So it's back to Vanni. The good news is, once the Frankenstein bolts are all done, Affordable can handle Jim's maintenance work.
We're off to White Plains again tomorrow to talk to Dr. Melville about my test results. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I get more than a condescending look and "You know...you ARE getting older...."
As for the theory of the patch just being scar tissue or some damage left over from my fabulous birthing experience, I found the following in the American Journal of Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and Children: "When there has been trauma inflicted upon the cervix, with resulting exfoliation of the epithelium, the abraded surface is covered with a dirty yellowish-grey patch of pseudo membrane. This is usual in streptoccic infection." And what is "streptoccic infection?" What I was loaded with after I had Jimmy. On the National Institutes of Health website, I found this: Group A streptococcus (GAS) causes a variety of human infections. It is also an uncommon but serious cause of postpartum infections...It is possible that women who had GAS as a cause of vaginal infection may have a tendency to be carriers of this organism, but this has never been proven. We believe it is of importance to determine if women who have had one infection may be long-term carriers" Anyway, that's just my theory. We'll see if I'm right. I go for the biopsy the day after Thanksgiving.
But enough of the female anatomy lesson. Now on the Jim's teeth: I had mentioned before that Vanni was not on the website as a participating dentist in our new dental plan that just started on the 1st of November. There's a guy that we work with who has dentures, and they look great. I honestly would never have guessed that the guy wore dentures until he told me, that's how convincing they look. This guy got his teeth done at a place called "Affordable Dentures", and they have several offices in New Jersey, one of which is about a half an hour from our house. Jim had gotten the website, and I called there. Affordable dentures has a lab right on the premises, and if you need work done you can come in in the morning and your dentures are ready by the afternoon. No appointment necessary...you can just walk right in. In the meantime, Jim asked Vanni if he participated in the new dental plan, and Vanni does...not in the HMO but in the PPO, which is what we have. Well, Jim was supposed to go to Vanni on the 10th but rescheduled it for later in the month so he'd have time to go check out Affordable Dentures and see if they could finish the work. We figured it's better to go to a place with a lab onsite that to have to go to Vanni and say "Hi", he reschedules for a month out, takes impressions, reschedules for ANOTHER month out, tries on the teeth, decides to make adjustments, reschedules for ANOTHER month out, and pretty soon you're looking at a year going by and you're still not done, which is where we are right now. Ridiculous. So Jim went over to Affordable today. Good news and bad news. Jim's uppers were not fitting right....he'd been having to load them with glue goop just to keep them in place. Affordable relined them today from soup to nuts and Jim got them back at 2 pm. Now he doesn't need any glue at all for them to stay in. But Affordable can't help him with the bar on the lowers to meet the implants because they don't work with Jim's model of Frankenstein bolts. So it's back to Vanni. The good news is, once the Frankenstein bolts are all done, Affordable can handle Jim's maintenance work.
We're off to White Plains again tomorrow to talk to Dr. Melville about my test results. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I get more than a condescending look and "You know...you ARE getting older...."
Monday, November 10, 2008
Monday November 10, 2008 11:08 PM
Last Monday I went to Labcorp here in town for my two hour blood test, which wound up being a three hour blood test.
First, they had me come in at 7 a.m. when they open up, and I got there about 10 minutes to, but of course, all the senior citizens who have no jobs and nowhere to go have to be lined up there ahead of me. They probably slept there the night before. Those old biddys queue up like the Beatles were having a reunion concert and tickets just went on sale. Then there was another woman who came into the vestibule complaining about how she had to make it to work, and I let her go ahead of me. I wouldn't want her having a coronary. So it was the old biddys, the lady with a job, and then me. They wound up not starting my test until 7:45.
Well, the way Dr. Melville asked this test to be done must really be unusual, because it totally threw the Lab Ladies for a loop. "Why is he doing it this way? I don't understand why he's doing it this way! I've never seen it done this way! You know I'm going to have to stick you five times?" Whatever. I've got to do what I've got to do, right? So they stuck me for a few vials of blood, because not only was Melville checking for glucose and insulin over a two-hour period, he was also checking about 15 other bodily functions as well. Then they gave me the sugary goo, gave me a timer set for 30 minutes, and sent me off to a little room to watch t.v. The problem soon became, when the timer went off, they weren't ready to check me, so what should have been blood draws in half-hour increments turned into 40 minute or more increments, and I wound up not getting out of there until 10:45. I'll just have to let Dr. Melville know that what's marked "two hours" is really three. I'm sure he can piece it together. I go back to him this Wednesday.
Now I'm going to talk about "female problems" now, so the squeamish men can skip this.
It had been at least four years since my last gynecological exam...at least four years. In fact, it may haven been longer than that. I don't do well with those pesky pelvic exams so the old gyno wasn't on the top of my list. But what finally got me off my rump was a monthly friend that hung around for two weeks. Not to mention that this friend comes to visit a little too often and I'm getting sick of it. So I found a new OB/GYN at Thomas Jefferson and went today. I'm not so thrilled with the staff at this place right off the bat....it's definitely another Physician Factory line with tons of patients and you're lucky to get 10 minutes with the doctor. The intake was a little different, though...they have a PC on the front desk and you put your own name into it to let them know you're there, and then they call you. But they know I'm here because I haven't had an exam in years, and at first they put me in the doctor's office because they don't realize I'm here for an exam. When they finally figure out I should be in the exam room instead, the room is so small and full of junk it makes my work desk look like it belongs to Martha Stewart, but whatever. I can't judge the doctor on the level of clutter. I've been in beautiful, immaculate offices where the doctors are idiots.
Dr. Zacher is probably about 50 and reminds me of the Church Lady...dowdy and humorless. I managed to get her to actually make conversation with me though, but it was tough. I got her to open up about Governor Rendell and malpractice insurance in Pennsylvania while her resident did the pelvic exam. Well, the bottom line is, it's never good when the resident takes one look and says, "Uh, Dr. Zacher, can you take a look at this please?" And now they're both staring up there mumbling about a "grey patch" and "don't swab it with the Q-tip" and I don't know what else, but they were very concerned about my "grey patch" and my abnormal bleeding and now I've got to go back in three weeks for an endometrial biopsy. Am I a little freaked out? Yeah, but honestly I'm more freaked out about having a biopsy of ANYTHING while I'm awake. The thought of sharp things without benefit of anesthesia is more distressing right now than the possibility of cancer. Hell, I'm eight hours apart from that little pelvic exam and my uterus still feels like it was combed with a cheese grater. How am I going to feel when they snip it? Oh hell. I told Jim he's coming with me for the biopsy, because I'm going to hepp myself up on so many pain killers I'll need him to lead me around by the hand to make sure I get on the right train coming back to New Jersey.
First, they had me come in at 7 a.m. when they open up, and I got there about 10 minutes to, but of course, all the senior citizens who have no jobs and nowhere to go have to be lined up there ahead of me. They probably slept there the night before. Those old biddys queue up like the Beatles were having a reunion concert and tickets just went on sale. Then there was another woman who came into the vestibule complaining about how she had to make it to work, and I let her go ahead of me. I wouldn't want her having a coronary. So it was the old biddys, the lady with a job, and then me. They wound up not starting my test until 7:45.
Well, the way Dr. Melville asked this test to be done must really be unusual, because it totally threw the Lab Ladies for a loop. "Why is he doing it this way? I don't understand why he's doing it this way! I've never seen it done this way! You know I'm going to have to stick you five times?" Whatever. I've got to do what I've got to do, right? So they stuck me for a few vials of blood, because not only was Melville checking for glucose and insulin over a two-hour period, he was also checking about 15 other bodily functions as well. Then they gave me the sugary goo, gave me a timer set for 30 minutes, and sent me off to a little room to watch t.v. The problem soon became, when the timer went off, they weren't ready to check me, so what should have been blood draws in half-hour increments turned into 40 minute or more increments, and I wound up not getting out of there until 10:45. I'll just have to let Dr. Melville know that what's marked "two hours" is really three. I'm sure he can piece it together. I go back to him this Wednesday.
Now I'm going to talk about "female problems" now, so the squeamish men can skip this.
It had been at least four years since my last gynecological exam...at least four years. In fact, it may haven been longer than that. I don't do well with those pesky pelvic exams so the old gyno wasn't on the top of my list. But what finally got me off my rump was a monthly friend that hung around for two weeks. Not to mention that this friend comes to visit a little too often and I'm getting sick of it. So I found a new OB/GYN at Thomas Jefferson and went today. I'm not so thrilled with the staff at this place right off the bat....it's definitely another Physician Factory line with tons of patients and you're lucky to get 10 minutes with the doctor. The intake was a little different, though...they have a PC on the front desk and you put your own name into it to let them know you're there, and then they call you. But they know I'm here because I haven't had an exam in years, and at first they put me in the doctor's office because they don't realize I'm here for an exam. When they finally figure out I should be in the exam room instead, the room is so small and full of junk it makes my work desk look like it belongs to Martha Stewart, but whatever. I can't judge the doctor on the level of clutter. I've been in beautiful, immaculate offices where the doctors are idiots.
Dr. Zacher is probably about 50 and reminds me of the Church Lady...dowdy and humorless. I managed to get her to actually make conversation with me though, but it was tough. I got her to open up about Governor Rendell and malpractice insurance in Pennsylvania while her resident did the pelvic exam. Well, the bottom line is, it's never good when the resident takes one look and says, "Uh, Dr. Zacher, can you take a look at this please?" And now they're both staring up there mumbling about a "grey patch" and "don't swab it with the Q-tip" and I don't know what else, but they were very concerned about my "grey patch" and my abnormal bleeding and now I've got to go back in three weeks for an endometrial biopsy. Am I a little freaked out? Yeah, but honestly I'm more freaked out about having a biopsy of ANYTHING while I'm awake. The thought of sharp things without benefit of anesthesia is more distressing right now than the possibility of cancer. Hell, I'm eight hours apart from that little pelvic exam and my uterus still feels like it was combed with a cheese grater. How am I going to feel when they snip it? Oh hell. I told Jim he's coming with me for the biopsy, because I'm going to hepp myself up on so many pain killers I'll need him to lead me around by the hand to make sure I get on the right train coming back to New Jersey.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Monday October 27 2008 11:05 PM
I've started to get a new symptom. Starting about a week ago, every time I eat, I get a headache. I NEVER get headaches. I have been cursed with a horrible digestive system, but headaches God spared me from completely. They're not awful headaches, I'd say maybe like a 2 on the pain scale, but the fact that they're THERE is very significant for me. And it started out with just a headache after dinner. Now it's after anything I eat...even a pickle. It's hitting me at the back of the head and the front at the same time.
So this appointment with the famous endocrinologist couldn't come at a better time. Jim and I had to leave the house at 6:30 a.m. to make it up to White Plains for my 10:15 appointment. We got there about a half hour early. Quite a few interesting things came out of this.
Dr. Melville took over an hour with me going over my history, symptoms, current meds, etc. Then he did an exam. He took a tape measure and went around my middle. Ugh. I don't even want to say how wide I am. Well, okay...I'll admit it. We have no secrets here. My waist, with clothes on (so maybe it's not as bad without clothes) is 37 inches around. Yikes. I hide it pretty well, though, don't I? Then he does what my other doctors have done, and he mangles my neck checking my thyroid gland. The only difference is that he is checking in a totally different spot on my neck than what the others have done. The others have said that my thyroid is not enlarged. Dr. Melville says that it IS enlarged, not too much, but it is. He's gouging the center of my neck and I'm choking and say, "Ugh! What are you doing? The other doctors checked me like THIS," and I show him where they were checking. And he says, "Well, HERE is where your thyroid gland is. Most regular doctors won't do it correctly but an endocrinologist will..." and then I tell him, "Yeah, but two of the three doctors that checked my neck WERE endocrinologists." Dr. Melville was shocked. He was also surprised that I got the old "You Italians like to eat a lot of pasta" line from one of my doctors. He says, "That's awfully racist," and I said, "Yeah, it's the same as if I made the assumption that you could sing." Dr. Melville is black, by the way. So his final analysis of my situation? First, he wants to switch my thyroid medicine. Second, he thinks I'm insulin resistant, which is a precursor to becoming diabetic, so he'd like to nip it in the bud before it gets that far. I've got to schedule this two hour glucose vs. insulin test at my local Labcorp and come back to him in two weeks. What insulin resistance means is that my body can't use the insulin it's producing properly, which just triggers it to make more insulin, which winds up making me get fatter. And fatter. And fatter. Now, I had brought this up with Dr. McAndrew before and she had said that if I were becoming diabetic I would be losing weight and not gaining it. Dr. Melville said that's not true at all for type 2 diabetes. It is for type 1, but not type two. I swear, primary care physicians as so totally useless. The only thing they're good for is renewing your prescriptions you got from other doctors who knew their asses from their elbows.
Another interesting thing I've discovered today is that I probably never had acid reflux for the last 10 years like everyone else said I had. Acid reflux is supposed to be heartburn that never goes away. I have never had heartburn. I have no idea what it feels like, but I sure as hell have never felt any "burning" sensation in my throat or chest. All I ever said to my doctors was that it feels like there's a giant grapefruit high up in my chest, right under my neck. Then I'd go to the next doctor and he'd look at my records and say, "So you have heartburn?" and again I'd say, "No, it feels like a giant grapefruit in my chest." But all the doctors deemed it heartburn, however, all the standard reflux drugs never helped me. The only thing that brought any relief was a drug called Propulsid, which doesn't target acid, but motility. You can't get Propulsid anymore because it's been pulled from the market. When Dr. Melville pushed on my thyroid it re-created the grapefruit sensation, and I said, "That's it! That's it! That's the grapefruit! Right there!" And he set off an "attack" that lasted four hours. So the "grapefruit" was just my enlarged thyroid gland, and I've been suffering with it since 1997. Dr. Barb, my shrink, had said to me that before your thyroid gives out it will surge and wane, surge and wane, over and over, for YEARS, until you ever notice any symptoms. And he's right. Isn't it a damn shame the the one doctor I went to before who knew the most about the thyroid was my SHRINK?
Jim and I had Dr. Melville laughing all over the place. He's got a good sense of humor which you don't find too much in doctors. There was one incident where Jim noticed that there was a book on pheochromacytoma on the guy's bookshelf, so Jim said something about it, and I said, "But he doesn't have a book on carotid body paragangliomas..." Well, you should have seen Dr. Melville's face light up. It was like I offered a fifth of vodka to an alcoholic. "Oh...that's what your husband had?" All the doctors love running into Jim. It's like gnats being drawn to an outdoor light. So we had to talk about that for awhile. Then there was another incident when he was doing my exam...he starts checking my ankles, and I say, "No, I don't have any edema. I never did." (I've been checked enough times to know exactly what they're looking for). So that coupled with other terms I dropped during his probing of my history makes him joke with me about practicing medicine without a license. When I rattled off the term "carotid body paraganglioma" that was just the whipped cream on this guy's banana split.
So I'll schedule my test for sometime this week. Hopefully we're on to something now. At least I can say I get a good feeling about this guy. It's just a damn shame I had to travel all the way to White Plains to find someone who seems to have a brain. As we were leaving the office, Dr. Melville came out and said, "Call me if you start to feel really bad." And I said, "I've been feeling really bad for so long, what's a couple more weeks? Bad has become my new normal."
So this appointment with the famous endocrinologist couldn't come at a better time. Jim and I had to leave the house at 6:30 a.m. to make it up to White Plains for my 10:15 appointment. We got there about a half hour early. Quite a few interesting things came out of this.
Dr. Melville took over an hour with me going over my history, symptoms, current meds, etc. Then he did an exam. He took a tape measure and went around my middle. Ugh. I don't even want to say how wide I am. Well, okay...I'll admit it. We have no secrets here. My waist, with clothes on (so maybe it's not as bad without clothes) is 37 inches around. Yikes. I hide it pretty well, though, don't I? Then he does what my other doctors have done, and he mangles my neck checking my thyroid gland. The only difference is that he is checking in a totally different spot on my neck than what the others have done. The others have said that my thyroid is not enlarged. Dr. Melville says that it IS enlarged, not too much, but it is. He's gouging the center of my neck and I'm choking and say, "Ugh! What are you doing? The other doctors checked me like THIS," and I show him where they were checking. And he says, "Well, HERE is where your thyroid gland is. Most regular doctors won't do it correctly but an endocrinologist will..." and then I tell him, "Yeah, but two of the three doctors that checked my neck WERE endocrinologists." Dr. Melville was shocked. He was also surprised that I got the old "You Italians like to eat a lot of pasta" line from one of my doctors. He says, "That's awfully racist," and I said, "Yeah, it's the same as if I made the assumption that you could sing." Dr. Melville is black, by the way. So his final analysis of my situation? First, he wants to switch my thyroid medicine. Second, he thinks I'm insulin resistant, which is a precursor to becoming diabetic, so he'd like to nip it in the bud before it gets that far. I've got to schedule this two hour glucose vs. insulin test at my local Labcorp and come back to him in two weeks. What insulin resistance means is that my body can't use the insulin it's producing properly, which just triggers it to make more insulin, which winds up making me get fatter. And fatter. And fatter. Now, I had brought this up with Dr. McAndrew before and she had said that if I were becoming diabetic I would be losing weight and not gaining it. Dr. Melville said that's not true at all for type 2 diabetes. It is for type 1, but not type two. I swear, primary care physicians as so totally useless. The only thing they're good for is renewing your prescriptions you got from other doctors who knew their asses from their elbows.
Another interesting thing I've discovered today is that I probably never had acid reflux for the last 10 years like everyone else said I had. Acid reflux is supposed to be heartburn that never goes away. I have never had heartburn. I have no idea what it feels like, but I sure as hell have never felt any "burning" sensation in my throat or chest. All I ever said to my doctors was that it feels like there's a giant grapefruit high up in my chest, right under my neck. Then I'd go to the next doctor and he'd look at my records and say, "So you have heartburn?" and again I'd say, "No, it feels like a giant grapefruit in my chest." But all the doctors deemed it heartburn, however, all the standard reflux drugs never helped me. The only thing that brought any relief was a drug called Propulsid, which doesn't target acid, but motility. You can't get Propulsid anymore because it's been pulled from the market. When Dr. Melville pushed on my thyroid it re-created the grapefruit sensation, and I said, "That's it! That's it! That's the grapefruit! Right there!" And he set off an "attack" that lasted four hours. So the "grapefruit" was just my enlarged thyroid gland, and I've been suffering with it since 1997. Dr. Barb, my shrink, had said to me that before your thyroid gives out it will surge and wane, surge and wane, over and over, for YEARS, until you ever notice any symptoms. And he's right. Isn't it a damn shame the the one doctor I went to before who knew the most about the thyroid was my SHRINK?
Jim and I had Dr. Melville laughing all over the place. He's got a good sense of humor which you don't find too much in doctors. There was one incident where Jim noticed that there was a book on pheochromacytoma on the guy's bookshelf, so Jim said something about it, and I said, "But he doesn't have a book on carotid body paragangliomas..." Well, you should have seen Dr. Melville's face light up. It was like I offered a fifth of vodka to an alcoholic. "Oh...that's what your husband had?" All the doctors love running into Jim. It's like gnats being drawn to an outdoor light. So we had to talk about that for awhile. Then there was another incident when he was doing my exam...he starts checking my ankles, and I say, "No, I don't have any edema. I never did." (I've been checked enough times to know exactly what they're looking for). So that coupled with other terms I dropped during his probing of my history makes him joke with me about practicing medicine without a license. When I rattled off the term "carotid body paraganglioma" that was just the whipped cream on this guy's banana split.
So I'll schedule my test for sometime this week. Hopefully we're on to something now. At least I can say I get a good feeling about this guy. It's just a damn shame I had to travel all the way to White Plains to find someone who seems to have a brain. As we were leaving the office, Dr. Melville came out and said, "Call me if you start to feel really bad." And I said, "I've been feeling really bad for so long, what's a couple more weeks? Bad has become my new normal."
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sunday October 26 2008 12:30 PM
Jim had an appointment with Vanni this week but forgot about it. He rescheduled, but for AFTER November 1st, so that's not going to do us any good. Jim was going to call the office and ask if Vanni participates in our new dental insurance, but couldn't remember the name of the company. He could have always called me to ask, but no. I think that's just a man thing. This is probably why single men die before married men. They can't make their own doctor's appointments.
After my endo didn't change my meds or do anything for me about my drastic weight gain, I found another doctor. Now, this is kind of an interesting story and I'm hopeful about the outcome. Jim and I love to watch the show Mystery Diagnosis. To me it's like a quiz show...I guess about 25 percent of the diseases. I'll say something to Jim like "It's Marfan's Syndrome! Let's see if I'm right!" If you've never watched the show, they follow people's odysseys trying to find help for their ongoing health problems, and get jerked around by various doctors along the way, then finally, years later, get a correct diagnosis and get some help. I also like the show because it's a good laugh. I sit there talking to the t.v...."What an asshole!"...."How typical!"...."What ELSE is new!" I yell at the screen. So it's interactive fun for me. A few months ago there was a case of this poor woman who suffered for many years...I can't remember what her disease was...but she finally found an endocrinologist in White Plains NY who took the time necessary and helped her. She raved about how fabulous this guy was. Well, I wrote the guy's name down in case I couldn't get any help locally. Last week I called his office. I figured it would take months to get in, if I could get in at all, because you know how endocrinologist are! Well, his receptionist was an absolute doll on the phone, and I don't know if she felt sorry for me or what, but he can take me this Monday, so I'm am SO THERE! The guy only sees eight patients a day. Jim suggested I write out a timeline when all of symptoms started, so that's what I'm working on today. I was debating if I should bring Jim or not. One, I like driving long distances alone...I can blast my music without anyone rolling their eyes. Two, since Jim's had such an interesting medical journey, the doctors like talking about his issues and mine get pushed by the wayside (see Doctor Altimore). Three, maybe the guy will think I have Munchhausen sydrome and am just looking for attention, but people with Munchhausen are very ingratiating to the medical profession. I am anything BUT ingratiating to the medical profession...I am their adversary, but maybe this guy won't see that. But on the other side of the issue, maybe having Jim there to back up what I'm saying will be helpful. I'm kind of animated and sarcastic and some doctors think I'm a little crazy so Jim can at least lend credence to my plethora of complaints. So in the end I opted for Jim coming with me. The in-laws are coming to spend the night because we have to be out the house at the crack of dawn tomorrow. I'm a little anxious because I'm hoping this guy won't blow me off.
After my endo didn't change my meds or do anything for me about my drastic weight gain, I found another doctor. Now, this is kind of an interesting story and I'm hopeful about the outcome. Jim and I love to watch the show Mystery Diagnosis. To me it's like a quiz show...I guess about 25 percent of the diseases. I'll say something to Jim like "It's Marfan's Syndrome! Let's see if I'm right!" If you've never watched the show, they follow people's odysseys trying to find help for their ongoing health problems, and get jerked around by various doctors along the way, then finally, years later, get a correct diagnosis and get some help. I also like the show because it's a good laugh. I sit there talking to the t.v...."What an asshole!"...."How typical!"...."What ELSE is new!" I yell at the screen. So it's interactive fun for me. A few months ago there was a case of this poor woman who suffered for many years...I can't remember what her disease was...but she finally found an endocrinologist in White Plains NY who took the time necessary and helped her. She raved about how fabulous this guy was. Well, I wrote the guy's name down in case I couldn't get any help locally. Last week I called his office. I figured it would take months to get in, if I could get in at all, because you know how endocrinologist are! Well, his receptionist was an absolute doll on the phone, and I don't know if she felt sorry for me or what, but he can take me this Monday, so I'm am SO THERE! The guy only sees eight patients a day. Jim suggested I write out a timeline when all of symptoms started, so that's what I'm working on today. I was debating if I should bring Jim or not. One, I like driving long distances alone...I can blast my music without anyone rolling their eyes. Two, since Jim's had such an interesting medical journey, the doctors like talking about his issues and mine get pushed by the wayside (see Doctor Altimore). Three, maybe the guy will think I have Munchhausen sydrome and am just looking for attention, but people with Munchhausen are very ingratiating to the medical profession. I am anything BUT ingratiating to the medical profession...I am their adversary, but maybe this guy won't see that. But on the other side of the issue, maybe having Jim there to back up what I'm saying will be helpful. I'm kind of animated and sarcastic and some doctors think I'm a little crazy so Jim can at least lend credence to my plethora of complaints. So in the end I opted for Jim coming with me. The in-laws are coming to spend the night because we have to be out the house at the crack of dawn tomorrow. I'm a little anxious because I'm hoping this guy won't blow me off.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Saturday October 18, 2008 12:15 A.M.
Yes...it's 12:15 a.m. I fell asleep in front of the t.v. for four hours tonight so now I'm wired.
Turns out my endo appointment was today. They called the other day to remind me. So much for me making sure I put all this stuff on my calendar. So I go to see Dr. Jennings and I tell him the latest news...I tell him how I coerced McAndrew into running the blood tests and urine tests, and I tell him the story about McAndrew's office not reading the whole document. He looks at it and says that LabCorp didn't even run all of the tests...there's a section in there that lists tests, but no results. Now, one of the things I wanted McAndrew to check on the urine test was my cortisol levels to see if I had Cushings disease. The other tests were for a pheo, like Jim had. Now, I don't believe for one second that I have a pheo, but two doctors have mentioned that I should test for it, so I figured if I have to pee in a jar for 24 hours anyway, why not run that too. Dr. Jennings said the tests that LabCorp didn't do were some of the pheo tests, most likely because they would be affected by the acid level in the urine, and once they saw the level was too high they just stopped testing.
Remember how I've said in the past that when I bitch about my weight gain he just asks me if I exercise and is very dismissive? Well, he was actually in a compassionate mood today, which surprised me. I said to him, "Something is very wrong with my metabolism" and he says, "What makes you say that?" Now, I almost laughed at that point. What makes me SAY that? What have I been yammering on about for the last six months? Every appointment I say the SAME thing, but today he wants to listen? O.k. So I give him the rundown. AGAIN. Then he draws blood. Then he congratulates me on making McAndrew runs those tests, and says something to the effect of, "Most patients know when something's wrong, better than their doctors." Oh, no kidding buddy. Why didn't you think that way the LAST time I was pleading for help?
I didn't leave with any earth-shattering info from him because he likes to run the bloodwork first, then call you with the details later. The one thing I did leave the office with was a note from him to give to my shrink giving his permission for the shrink to take me off trileptal. I've been stuck between a rock and a hard place because 1) the shrink doesn't think I'm bipolar, but it was the thyroid freaking out that gave me the symptoms of bipolar, 2) the shrink wants to ultimately take me off the trileptal, 3) I have discovered that the thyroid meds are interfering with the action of the trileptal, because since my thyroid med dosage was upped on my last endo visit, the evening dose of trileptal doesn't make me sleepy anymore, 4) can the trileptal be preventing the thyroid meds from working properly? I don't know, but it's obvious they don't play well in the sandbox together, and 5) the shrink won't take me off the trileptal until my thyroid is stable. Since I'm still gaining weight for no reason he doesn't think my thyroid is stable. I tried backing off the trileptal myself a couple of weeks ago by a half a pill, and the next day I was crawling out of my skin, so I'm not doing that without help.
Turns out my endo appointment was today. They called the other day to remind me. So much for me making sure I put all this stuff on my calendar. So I go to see Dr. Jennings and I tell him the latest news...I tell him how I coerced McAndrew into running the blood tests and urine tests, and I tell him the story about McAndrew's office not reading the whole document. He looks at it and says that LabCorp didn't even run all of the tests...there's a section in there that lists tests, but no results. Now, one of the things I wanted McAndrew to check on the urine test was my cortisol levels to see if I had Cushings disease. The other tests were for a pheo, like Jim had. Now, I don't believe for one second that I have a pheo, but two doctors have mentioned that I should test for it, so I figured if I have to pee in a jar for 24 hours anyway, why not run that too. Dr. Jennings said the tests that LabCorp didn't do were some of the pheo tests, most likely because they would be affected by the acid level in the urine, and once they saw the level was too high they just stopped testing.
Remember how I've said in the past that when I bitch about my weight gain he just asks me if I exercise and is very dismissive? Well, he was actually in a compassionate mood today, which surprised me. I said to him, "Something is very wrong with my metabolism" and he says, "What makes you say that?" Now, I almost laughed at that point. What makes me SAY that? What have I been yammering on about for the last six months? Every appointment I say the SAME thing, but today he wants to listen? O.k. So I give him the rundown. AGAIN. Then he draws blood. Then he congratulates me on making McAndrew runs those tests, and says something to the effect of, "Most patients know when something's wrong, better than their doctors." Oh, no kidding buddy. Why didn't you think that way the LAST time I was pleading for help?
I didn't leave with any earth-shattering info from him because he likes to run the bloodwork first, then call you with the details later. The one thing I did leave the office with was a note from him to give to my shrink giving his permission for the shrink to take me off trileptal. I've been stuck between a rock and a hard place because 1) the shrink doesn't think I'm bipolar, but it was the thyroid freaking out that gave me the symptoms of bipolar, 2) the shrink wants to ultimately take me off the trileptal, 3) I have discovered that the thyroid meds are interfering with the action of the trileptal, because since my thyroid med dosage was upped on my last endo visit, the evening dose of trileptal doesn't make me sleepy anymore, 4) can the trileptal be preventing the thyroid meds from working properly? I don't know, but it's obvious they don't play well in the sandbox together, and 5) the shrink won't take me off the trileptal until my thyroid is stable. Since I'm still gaining weight for no reason he doesn't think my thyroid is stable. I tried backing off the trileptal myself a couple of weeks ago by a half a pill, and the next day I was crawling out of my skin, so I'm not doing that without help.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Sunday October 12, 2008 12:10 a.m.
When I called LabCorp's customer service line the other day to see if my 24-hour urine test was done, they told me yes, and it had been faxed over to McAndrew's office the day before. I asked if they could send me a copy of the test results. They don't send them to you unless you ask. Hey, I paid for them, or at least insurance did, so I'm entitled. They said they would pop them in the mail to me.
McAndrew's nurse called yesterday to say that my test was back and everything was normal. But today I get the actual test results in the mail, and in the section that spits out the numbers, those numbers ARE in the normal range; however, the results also say that the acid level in my urine was too high for an accurate measurement and I need to re-test. Now, McAndrew's nurse said nothing about that, and what do you want to bet they didn't even read the whole paper. Now, I had wanted the actual results, instead of just taking what the nurse said as gospel, because if it's any repeat of how they handled my thyroid tests they don't know squat. I had had my thyroid test done several times, and the TSH kept rising, which was significant coupled with the fact that I had thyroid anti-bodies, hence Hashimoto's, which McAndrew didn't bother to check for. I'd at least like to run these tests again in a few months to see if the numbers are climbing. Or maybe McAndrew deems them normal, but how close to the "line" are they? Since the results say I have to re-test, I'll just ask my endocrinologist to order them again. I'm due to go back in about a month. In the meantime that might give me enough time to see if the combination of vitamin D and my thyroid meds starts to give me some relief. Maybe I'll get lucky. But then this leads to another question....why is my urine too acidic? Just another question to try and get the answer to.
McAndrew's nurse called yesterday to say that my test was back and everything was normal. But today I get the actual test results in the mail, and in the section that spits out the numbers, those numbers ARE in the normal range; however, the results also say that the acid level in my urine was too high for an accurate measurement and I need to re-test. Now, McAndrew's nurse said nothing about that, and what do you want to bet they didn't even read the whole paper. Now, I had wanted the actual results, instead of just taking what the nurse said as gospel, because if it's any repeat of how they handled my thyroid tests they don't know squat. I had had my thyroid test done several times, and the TSH kept rising, which was significant coupled with the fact that I had thyroid anti-bodies, hence Hashimoto's, which McAndrew didn't bother to check for. I'd at least like to run these tests again in a few months to see if the numbers are climbing. Or maybe McAndrew deems them normal, but how close to the "line" are they? Since the results say I have to re-test, I'll just ask my endocrinologist to order them again. I'm due to go back in about a month. In the meantime that might give me enough time to see if the combination of vitamin D and my thyroid meds starts to give me some relief. Maybe I'll get lucky. But then this leads to another question....why is my urine too acidic? Just another question to try and get the answer to.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Wednesday October 8, 2008 7:47 PM
Yes, I haven’t posted in awhile. There was a reason for it but I’ll get to that at the end.
First, we went on our RV trip in late August. We’d never done the RV thing before, but we had a good time and I’d definitely do it again. Apart from Jim taking a turn too narrowly pulling into our first RV park and getting the rig stuck on a railroad tie, then having to be pulled off by the “locals” with a backhoe and a chain, the trip went off without incident. If I ever DID do it again, I would rent the thing closer to home and then drive to our destination. That way I could get it set up with sheets, towels, cooking implements, food, etc., BEFORE we left, rather than having to ship everything UPS and then pack it up and ship it back. I didn’t anticipate the gas mileage on the behemoth to be as good as it was.
We got back, Jimmy started 2nd grade, and we settled into the fall routine. As you’ll remember, Jim had Decidua’s office install the Frankenstein bolts into his lower jaw before we left in anticipation of Vanni finishing off the implants. Decidua gave him a slip of paper with the bolt “specs”, i.e., the size, manufacturer, etc. Last month Jim went to Vanni hoping Vanni would take impressions and get started, but all Vanni did was take the sheet of paper from him and reschedule him for impressions. Now, how friggin’ STUPID was that? We could have faxed him or mailed him the paper. Why drag Jim’s ass in there and delay us AGAIN? I don’t think Vanni appreciates how important this is for Jim to get done with this crap already. He can’t start therapy until the teeth are finished. It’s been almost a YEAR already. As it is, once Jim is done he’ll have to go back to Speigel and get the therapy approved all over again. With our luck, that will happen right before Christmas and Jan 1st our medical insurance company will change. Ha ha ha.
So now onto me. I’ve been bitching about this weight gain, and all I’m getting from Dr. McAndrew (my GP) and Dr. Jennings (my endocrinologist) is deer-in-the-headlights stares and comments about being middle-aged. My Mom was tisk-tisk-ing me about my preferred type of mayonnaise, but I know it’s not about the Hellmann’s. When there’s something wrong with your body, you know it. The thyroid meds aren’t helping me at all, my knees and feet are killing me, I’m exhausted all the time, I’ve got a meatloaf growing around my chewy center, but according to my endo, my hair looks good so I guess I should be happy. I finally did some Googling on my own and came up with a few ideas. I went into McAndrew’s office and told her to humor me, and check me for Vitamin D deficiency and Cushing’s disease. Vitamin D deficiency can make you fat and prevent the thyroid meds from working properly. Cushings is a hormonal disorder that also makes you fat relatively quickly (and gives you other symptoms too, most of which I have). They look for elevated cortisol levels with a 24-hour urine test. She just said, “You don’t look like you have Cushings” and I lifted up my shirt to show her my bulging middle and said, “Look at this! Do you SEE this!” People with Cushings have skinny arms and legs, and I normally wear big, long shirts to hide my flab, so whenever she sees me she just sees the limbs and thinks I’m nuts. She reluctantly wrote the scripts for the tests. You know, maybe I’m wrong, but check for SOMETHING lady! Why don’t people believe me?
I took the blood test about three weeks ago, and did the 24-hour urine about a week after that. Yesterday McAndrew’s nurse calls me. My blood work is back but not the urine yet. And get this: I’m severely vitamin D deficient. HA! HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!! It was MY idea for her to test for that, but the next time I see her she’ll probably act like it was all her idea. So she gave me a prescription for a supplement you take once a week. I took the first one last night. Today I called the lab to see where my urine test is, and they said they faxed it to McAndrew’s office yesterday. I’ll give her a couple more days and then hound her nurse.
So I didn’t post because I wanted to get those test results back first. I didn’t want to mention I made McAndrew run them without at least getting some of the results back. By now I’m so mentally downtrodden that I was starting to believe that maybe I was crazy, and I wanted to be vindicated first before mentioning what I had done. I hate doctors. I hate them so much. Well, let me amend that slightly.....I hate MOST doctors. I think this cartoon sums it up:
And I was talking to my mother last night. She brought up a point that I agree with and have always believed for years: I don't think I actually have all of these little piddly things....I don't think I have bacterial overgrowth syndrome and intestinal metaplasia and high blood pressure and Hashimoto's disease...I think I have ONE thing, and I've had that ONE thing for a long time, and that ONE thing just causes all of the other little things, but no one has any idea what that ONE thing is yet. And I'm not quitting until I find SOMEONE who helps me finds out what that ONE thing is. Jim is actually very lucky he ran into Dr. Altimore at Deborah Heart and Lung, because that guy said right away: "Jim, you're a little too young to have high blood pressure. Let's find out if there's a REASON for your high blood pressure." And if Altimore hadn't done that, Jim would probably not be here now, and his tumor would have been found post-mortem. What can't ALL doctors be like Altimore?
Now onto Jim and his teeth….he went back to Vanni yesterday, and Vanni actually took impressions. He’s got to go back again in a couple of weeks or so. But get this: we just got notice at work today that our dental insurance is going from Guardian to MetLife beginning 11/1. Guess who’s not in network for MetLife? I don’t even have to answer that….it’s obvious. Jim says he doesn’t care….he hasn’t been too enamored of Vanni up until now anyway, and I agree with this, but we’re almost done. I don’t have to like Vanni, but we’re too deep into it to switch now. But we don’t have much choice. And of course I can’t call Vanni’s office today because it’s Wednesday and they're closed.
First, we went on our RV trip in late August. We’d never done the RV thing before, but we had a good time and I’d definitely do it again. Apart from Jim taking a turn too narrowly pulling into our first RV park and getting the rig stuck on a railroad tie, then having to be pulled off by the “locals” with a backhoe and a chain, the trip went off without incident. If I ever DID do it again, I would rent the thing closer to home and then drive to our destination. That way I could get it set up with sheets, towels, cooking implements, food, etc., BEFORE we left, rather than having to ship everything UPS and then pack it up and ship it back. I didn’t anticipate the gas mileage on the behemoth to be as good as it was.
We got back, Jimmy started 2nd grade, and we settled into the fall routine. As you’ll remember, Jim had Decidua’s office install the Frankenstein bolts into his lower jaw before we left in anticipation of Vanni finishing off the implants. Decidua gave him a slip of paper with the bolt “specs”, i.e., the size, manufacturer, etc. Last month Jim went to Vanni hoping Vanni would take impressions and get started, but all Vanni did was take the sheet of paper from him and reschedule him for impressions. Now, how friggin’ STUPID was that? We could have faxed him or mailed him the paper. Why drag Jim’s ass in there and delay us AGAIN? I don’t think Vanni appreciates how important this is for Jim to get done with this crap already. He can’t start therapy until the teeth are finished. It’s been almost a YEAR already. As it is, once Jim is done he’ll have to go back to Speigel and get the therapy approved all over again. With our luck, that will happen right before Christmas and Jan 1st our medical insurance company will change. Ha ha ha.
So now onto me. I’ve been bitching about this weight gain, and all I’m getting from Dr. McAndrew (my GP) and Dr. Jennings (my endocrinologist) is deer-in-the-headlights stares and comments about being middle-aged. My Mom was tisk-tisk-ing me about my preferred type of mayonnaise, but I know it’s not about the Hellmann’s. When there’s something wrong with your body, you know it. The thyroid meds aren’t helping me at all, my knees and feet are killing me, I’m exhausted all the time, I’ve got a meatloaf growing around my chewy center, but according to my endo, my hair looks good so I guess I should be happy. I finally did some Googling on my own and came up with a few ideas. I went into McAndrew’s office and told her to humor me, and check me for Vitamin D deficiency and Cushing’s disease. Vitamin D deficiency can make you fat and prevent the thyroid meds from working properly. Cushings is a hormonal disorder that also makes you fat relatively quickly (and gives you other symptoms too, most of which I have). They look for elevated cortisol levels with a 24-hour urine test. She just said, “You don’t look like you have Cushings” and I lifted up my shirt to show her my bulging middle and said, “Look at this! Do you SEE this!” People with Cushings have skinny arms and legs, and I normally wear big, long shirts to hide my flab, so whenever she sees me she just sees the limbs and thinks I’m nuts. She reluctantly wrote the scripts for the tests. You know, maybe I’m wrong, but check for SOMETHING lady! Why don’t people believe me?
I took the blood test about three weeks ago, and did the 24-hour urine about a week after that. Yesterday McAndrew’s nurse calls me. My blood work is back but not the urine yet. And get this: I’m severely vitamin D deficient. HA! HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!! It was MY idea for her to test for that, but the next time I see her she’ll probably act like it was all her idea. So she gave me a prescription for a supplement you take once a week. I took the first one last night. Today I called the lab to see where my urine test is, and they said they faxed it to McAndrew’s office yesterday. I’ll give her a couple more days and then hound her nurse.
So I didn’t post because I wanted to get those test results back first. I didn’t want to mention I made McAndrew run them without at least getting some of the results back. By now I’m so mentally downtrodden that I was starting to believe that maybe I was crazy, and I wanted to be vindicated first before mentioning what I had done. I hate doctors. I hate them so much. Well, let me amend that slightly.....I hate MOST doctors. I think this cartoon sums it up:
And I was talking to my mother last night. She brought up a point that I agree with and have always believed for years: I don't think I actually have all of these little piddly things....I don't think I have bacterial overgrowth syndrome and intestinal metaplasia and high blood pressure and Hashimoto's disease...I think I have ONE thing, and I've had that ONE thing for a long time, and that ONE thing just causes all of the other little things, but no one has any idea what that ONE thing is yet. And I'm not quitting until I find SOMEONE who helps me finds out what that ONE thing is. Jim is actually very lucky he ran into Dr. Altimore at Deborah Heart and Lung, because that guy said right away: "Jim, you're a little too young to have high blood pressure. Let's find out if there's a REASON for your high blood pressure." And if Altimore hadn't done that, Jim would probably not be here now, and his tumor would have been found post-mortem. What can't ALL doctors be like Altimore?
Now onto Jim and his teeth….he went back to Vanni yesterday, and Vanni actually took impressions. He’s got to go back again in a couple of weeks or so. But get this: we just got notice at work today that our dental insurance is going from Guardian to MetLife beginning 11/1. Guess who’s not in network for MetLife? I don’t even have to answer that….it’s obvious. Jim says he doesn’t care….he hasn’t been too enamored of Vanni up until now anyway, and I agree with this, but we’re almost done. I don’t have to like Vanni, but we’re too deep into it to switch now. But we don’t have much choice. And of course I can’t call Vanni’s office today because it’s Wednesday and they're closed.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Friday August 15, 2008 11:29 PM
I had my much-anticipated appointment with my endocrinologist today. He's got me on pig thyroid pills (armour thyroid) since he first diagnosed me with Hashimoto's thyroiditis a few months ago. At first I had seen a lot of changes for the good...my knees stopped hurting, my hair got curlier, my triglyceride level dropped back to normal, but my weight didn't budge at all. I upped my dosage. No change. In fact, it's getting worse. My knees have started hurting again, I'm exhausted all the time, and last week I felt sick for a few days, couldn't get out of the bathroom, ate nothing but toast and chicken broth and GAINED THREE POUNDS. Unbelievable. I've gone up two clothes sizes since February. Even when I saw this guy for the first time I could tell he thought I was exaggerating about the weight thing...I may look trim enough, but I was trim-MER before. Now I've resorted to Slim Fast and a max of 1000 calories a day. That's no way to live, and that's no good for you either....I know that...but what else can I do? The scale is out of control.
So I see the guy today and I'm kvetching and of course he's got the "you're getting older" face on and then he asks if I exercise. Well, here's the thing. Yes, of course I know that exercise is good for you and I should really do more of it...maybe it would help in a small way...but the bottom line is, if I sat on my ass in February and was able to maintain 140 lbs. then it shouldn't really matter if I sit on my ass in August. I'm just as middle-aged now as I was then. Even Dr. McAndrew who drew the original labs that showed my triglyceride levels were 434 had an attitude that I must not be eating right. I get that discriminatory crap that since I'm Italian I must eat a lot of pasta...yes- she actually said that to me. But I'm not even Italian. Just because I married a man named Primiani does not make me Italian. When she saw the new labs taken after the thyroid meds that showed the level down to 88 she asked me if I had changed my eating habits. "No," I told her. She looked amazed. Yeah lady...not all bad lab results are caused by bad habits. She told me to get off the Lopid....I don't need it. The thyroid must have caused the high triglycerides.
So anyway...the endocrinologist drew more blood. I asked him if he could change me to the synthetic thyroid because I don't think Armour is the thing for me. He just said he'd call me when the labs came back. Now, I don't know if synthetic will help me, either, but it's worth a shot. Worst case scenario, McAndrew said she'd switch me if this guy wouldn't. We'll see. I guess I just have to keep eating Slim Fast bars. I'm soooooo hungry!
Jim and I and Jimmy are off the St. Louis on Sunday. I rented an RV and we're going to do the whole RV thing. Jim's bitching and moaning because he's apprehensive about driving it. I swear...you have to drag that guy away from the house.
So I see the guy today and I'm kvetching and of course he's got the "you're getting older" face on and then he asks if I exercise. Well, here's the thing. Yes, of course I know that exercise is good for you and I should really do more of it...maybe it would help in a small way...but the bottom line is, if I sat on my ass in February and was able to maintain 140 lbs. then it shouldn't really matter if I sit on my ass in August. I'm just as middle-aged now as I was then. Even Dr. McAndrew who drew the original labs that showed my triglyceride levels were 434 had an attitude that I must not be eating right. I get that discriminatory crap that since I'm Italian I must eat a lot of pasta...yes- she actually said that to me. But I'm not even Italian. Just because I married a man named Primiani does not make me Italian. When she saw the new labs taken after the thyroid meds that showed the level down to 88 she asked me if I had changed my eating habits. "No," I told her. She looked amazed. Yeah lady...not all bad lab results are caused by bad habits. She told me to get off the Lopid....I don't need it. The thyroid must have caused the high triglycerides.
So anyway...the endocrinologist drew more blood. I asked him if he could change me to the synthetic thyroid because I don't think Armour is the thing for me. He just said he'd call me when the labs came back. Now, I don't know if synthetic will help me, either, but it's worth a shot. Worst case scenario, McAndrew said she'd switch me if this guy wouldn't. We'll see. I guess I just have to keep eating Slim Fast bars. I'm soooooo hungry!
Jim and I and Jimmy are off the St. Louis on Sunday. I rented an RV and we're going to do the whole RV thing. Jim's bitching and moaning because he's apprehensive about driving it. I swear...you have to drag that guy away from the house.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Saturday July 26, 2008 9:30 PM
Remember back in November of last year when we FINALLY got Jim in to get his teeth pulled and implants put in? The game plan was either two implants on top and two on the bottom, or four implants on top and four on the bottom, and Decidua's people had to decide which way to go depending on Jim's bone structure in his jaw. After he had his surgery, Decidua spoke with me on the "bat phone" in the waiting room and said he had placed four implants. So where would a normal person think they were? Two on the top and two on the bottom, right?
Now, people would think that Jim would know where his implants are, but you can't see them or feel them...after the surgery your jaw is a raw mess and once everything heals the bone grows around them. They don't even attach anything to them until everything heals for at least six months.
Fast forward to about a week ago. Vanni told Jim he needs to go back to Decidua to have his implants "finished", whatever that means. Then Vanni can work on what meets them on the denture side. Jim came home from Decidua's all numbed up and couldn't talk, so he turned on his PC and started writing in Notebook...."I HAVE FOUR IMPLANTS ON THE BOTTOM AND NONE ON THE TOP!!!!" Oh, we were both pissed beyond belief. Vanni's office was closed that day so I couldn't call them. How could they have made this mistake? What kind of bullshit was this? I even contacted a malpractice attorney, who informed me I would 1) need a dental malpractice attorney (there's a specialty for that?) and 2) I would need to find someone in Pennsylavnia, since that's where all Jim's doctors are.
The next day I got a hold of Vanni, and we're both perplexed with his answer. He says that the plan was never to put the upper implants in, just the lower. He says you never do the upper with the lower. Well, Jim and I aren't stupid. We BOTH attended every single meeting with Decidua and Vanni and NEITHER one of us ever came away with that information. I could understand one of us missing it, but never both of us. But what's done is done now, and we can't change it. We also can't afford to do the uppers any time soon. We already laid out over 19K last year in out of pocket medical and dental (most of it was dental because there were yearly out of pocket caps in our medical insurance)and our home equity line of credit is tapped out. Jim says he really doesn't have much of a problem with the uppers slipping anyway, but the lowers slip so bad he can't wear them at all.
So now he looks like he has four Frankenstein bolts in his gums. He goes back to Vanni this Monday. It will probably be at least another month before he's ready to get the lowers attached to the implants. Then after that we can get Jim into round two of his Vital Stim therapy that he so desperately needs.
Now, people would think that Jim would know where his implants are, but you can't see them or feel them...after the surgery your jaw is a raw mess and once everything heals the bone grows around them. They don't even attach anything to them until everything heals for at least six months.
Fast forward to about a week ago. Vanni told Jim he needs to go back to Decidua to have his implants "finished", whatever that means. Then Vanni can work on what meets them on the denture side. Jim came home from Decidua's all numbed up and couldn't talk, so he turned on his PC and started writing in Notebook...."I HAVE FOUR IMPLANTS ON THE BOTTOM AND NONE ON THE TOP!!!!" Oh, we were both pissed beyond belief. Vanni's office was closed that day so I couldn't call them. How could they have made this mistake? What kind of bullshit was this? I even contacted a malpractice attorney, who informed me I would 1) need a dental malpractice attorney (there's a specialty for that?) and 2) I would need to find someone in Pennsylavnia, since that's where all Jim's doctors are.
The next day I got a hold of Vanni, and we're both perplexed with his answer. He says that the plan was never to put the upper implants in, just the lower. He says you never do the upper with the lower. Well, Jim and I aren't stupid. We BOTH attended every single meeting with Decidua and Vanni and NEITHER one of us ever came away with that information. I could understand one of us missing it, but never both of us. But what's done is done now, and we can't change it. We also can't afford to do the uppers any time soon. We already laid out over 19K last year in out of pocket medical and dental (most of it was dental because there were yearly out of pocket caps in our medical insurance)and our home equity line of credit is tapped out. Jim says he really doesn't have much of a problem with the uppers slipping anyway, but the lowers slip so bad he can't wear them at all.
So now he looks like he has four Frankenstein bolts in his gums. He goes back to Vanni this Monday. It will probably be at least another month before he's ready to get the lowers attached to the implants. Then after that we can get Jim into round two of his Vital Stim therapy that he so desperately needs.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Friday July 4, 2008 12:01 AM
Either one of the technicians who handled my bloodwork was smokin' dope or there's been a freakin miracle. But let me back up a little.
I went to see my shrink last week and told him that I was finally put on thyroid medication and diagnosed with Hashimotos. In light of that new information he thinks I may not be bipolar at all. He explained that when you have Hashimotos the condition is usually present but undetected for years and years, and in that time the thyroid gland will surge and wane, surge and wane, back and forth. When it surges, you race. When it wanes, you slow down and get depressed. Therefore, it can mimic bipolar disorder. Once I get stable on the right meds and the right dosage he wants to try backing me off the trileptal slowly and seeing what happens.
Now on to the lab tech smoking dope thing. I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but right before I started chasing down endocrinologists I begged my primary care physician (and I use that term loosely) to run thyroid bloodwork on me. She said my thyroid was normal but my triglycerides were 434. That's God-awful high. I mean, I should have had sludge running through my veins with a number like that. Because the triglycerides were so high the lab could not even provide a figure on my cholesterol levels. So Ms. Primary Care put me on Lopid, which is a cholesterol-lowering drug. I was supposed to take the drug twice a day, but was only taking it once a day. It's a huge horse pill and makes me gag.
One of the things that Hashimoto's can do to you is make your triglyceride level sky high, which was another reason I was trying to find an endocrinologist who would give me a little respect, which is not easy to do. The staff at Jim's endocrinologist, Dr. Horowitz, refused to even schedule an appointment with me because my TSH test was normal. So I'm through with those bitches. I won't even call there on Jim's behalf anymore...he's on his own with them. So the Lopid I started taking around April, and the thyroid meds were started about six weeks ago. (Still no effect on my new girth, by the way, which I'm not happy about).
So I had my yearly follow-up at Deborah Heart and Lung, and part of that included bloodwork, which I did not fast for because the appointment was at 11:00 a.m. and if anyone thinks I can make it that far into the day without coffee they can forget it. Plus they didn;t say on my appointment sheet what they were testing my blood FOR anyway. Turns out it was for cholesterol, trigycerides, and some other stuff. At the Deborah test my triglycerides are now down to 88 and my total cholesterol is only 137, which is fabulous. I've got a hard time believing that a half-dose of Lopid for a few months would be enough to make that radical of a change. So could the thyroid meds have had something to do with it? Or maybe one of the two tests were screwed up? I don't know, but I'll take it.
But I'm on the pig thyroid for a long time now, and I'm still a lard-ass. And I'm not happy about it. People have said to me, "You're just getting older, etc., etc" and I would buy that if the weight had been a slow creep over a period of time, but TEN POUNDS IN TWO WEEKS? No way. People don't put on that kind of weight in that short a period of time.
I went to see my shrink last week and told him that I was finally put on thyroid medication and diagnosed with Hashimotos. In light of that new information he thinks I may not be bipolar at all. He explained that when you have Hashimotos the condition is usually present but undetected for years and years, and in that time the thyroid gland will surge and wane, surge and wane, back and forth. When it surges, you race. When it wanes, you slow down and get depressed. Therefore, it can mimic bipolar disorder. Once I get stable on the right meds and the right dosage he wants to try backing me off the trileptal slowly and seeing what happens.
Now on to the lab tech smoking dope thing. I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but right before I started chasing down endocrinologists I begged my primary care physician (and I use that term loosely) to run thyroid bloodwork on me. She said my thyroid was normal but my triglycerides were 434. That's God-awful high. I mean, I should have had sludge running through my veins with a number like that. Because the triglycerides were so high the lab could not even provide a figure on my cholesterol levels. So Ms. Primary Care put me on Lopid, which is a cholesterol-lowering drug. I was supposed to take the drug twice a day, but was only taking it once a day. It's a huge horse pill and makes me gag.
One of the things that Hashimoto's can do to you is make your triglyceride level sky high, which was another reason I was trying to find an endocrinologist who would give me a little respect, which is not easy to do. The staff at Jim's endocrinologist, Dr. Horowitz, refused to even schedule an appointment with me because my TSH test was normal. So I'm through with those bitches. I won't even call there on Jim's behalf anymore...he's on his own with them. So the Lopid I started taking around April, and the thyroid meds were started about six weeks ago. (Still no effect on my new girth, by the way, which I'm not happy about).
So I had my yearly follow-up at Deborah Heart and Lung, and part of that included bloodwork, which I did not fast for because the appointment was at 11:00 a.m. and if anyone thinks I can make it that far into the day without coffee they can forget it. Plus they didn;t say on my appointment sheet what they were testing my blood FOR anyway. Turns out it was for cholesterol, trigycerides, and some other stuff. At the Deborah test my triglycerides are now down to 88 and my total cholesterol is only 137, which is fabulous. I've got a hard time believing that a half-dose of Lopid for a few months would be enough to make that radical of a change. So could the thyroid meds have had something to do with it? Or maybe one of the two tests were screwed up? I don't know, but I'll take it.
But I'm on the pig thyroid for a long time now, and I'm still a lard-ass. And I'm not happy about it. People have said to me, "You're just getting older, etc., etc" and I would buy that if the weight had been a slow creep over a period of time, but TEN POUNDS IN TWO WEEKS? No way. People don't put on that kind of weight in that short a period of time.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Sunday June 15, 2008 11:45 A.M.
This thyroid pill has helped me in many ways, i.e. my knees stopped hurting almost right away, my scalp is moister, I don't get sweats and crash if I don't eat, my hair texture is improving, I don't need moisturizer on my face, my zits are starting to clear, when Aunt Flo came to town she didn't kick my ass (yeah....I know the guys won't want to hear that but it's a symptom...gotta mention it) but it's not doing much for my energy level and it ain't doin' jack shit for my weight. A friend of mine has this and had noticed a huge uptick to his energy after he started the medication, but he's on synthetic thyroid and I'm on pig thyroid....I guess my medicine will have to be tweaked a little. I go back to the endocrinologist in mid-July. In the meantime, after trying the meds for about three weeks I started taking two of the pills in the a.m. instead of one. This has cranked up my energy level somewhat. I actually went out digging up grass for a new flower bed on the side of the house. It was in the 90's though, and I started sweating my ass off, so I quit. But I would have never felt strong enough to even attempt that a month ago.
I cured my bronchitis by myself. The meds cocktail worked like a charm. Who needs stinking doctors? Not me. This week I go back to Deborah Heart and Lung for another echocardiogram to check if my heart damage has been kept in check by the beta-blockers. The plan was to wait 12 months and re-test, so now it's 12 months. They won't tell me anything when I'm there for the test. They make you come back about a week later to talk to the doctor. What a zoo that place is. You wait an hour to get called for your insurance info, then wait again to be called to the triage desk, then wait to be called for your test. I could be there all day. But they accept as full payment whatever your insurance pays out, so it's free to you with no co-pays. I guess it's worth waiting in that respect.
Jim was supposed to get three CAT scans to re-check his neck. Dr. Horowitz got them precertified, and the pre-cert expired in May. He never scheduled the scans. I had been getting sick of scheduling all his appointments and pointing him in the right direction, so I wanted him to do it. After all, he's a big boy. But he didn't. Maybe he deep down he doesn't want to know what they say, or maybe he isn't worried at all so he doesn't think they're important. Anyway....who knows what's going on in his head. But I refuse to call Horowitz' office to ask them to re certify the scans. I had tried to get an appointment with her to talk about my thyroid, and her office flunkies were extremely rude to me and would not schedule me, so they are the last people on earth I want to speak to right now. They can all go kiss my ass. Jim is going to have to do this one on his own.
Jim can't get used to his lower dentures because they keep rubbing on his scar tissue on the inside of his chin. Vanni said that Decidua will have to uncover the implants and put posts in them so that the dentures can finally get "installed" permanently, which should overcome his rubbing problem. Jim made that appointment himself and he goes this Thursday. I can't come with him because I have a phone cut-over for our Keasbey office scheduled for that day. Decidua is a great guy, but you have to go through his layers of residents, who are all idiots. Jim will just have to get adamant with them. We'll see what happens.
I cured my bronchitis by myself. The meds cocktail worked like a charm. Who needs stinking doctors? Not me. This week I go back to Deborah Heart and Lung for another echocardiogram to check if my heart damage has been kept in check by the beta-blockers. The plan was to wait 12 months and re-test, so now it's 12 months. They won't tell me anything when I'm there for the test. They make you come back about a week later to talk to the doctor. What a zoo that place is. You wait an hour to get called for your insurance info, then wait again to be called to the triage desk, then wait to be called for your test. I could be there all day. But they accept as full payment whatever your insurance pays out, so it's free to you with no co-pays. I guess it's worth waiting in that respect.
Jim was supposed to get three CAT scans to re-check his neck. Dr. Horowitz got them precertified, and the pre-cert expired in May. He never scheduled the scans. I had been getting sick of scheduling all his appointments and pointing him in the right direction, so I wanted him to do it. After all, he's a big boy. But he didn't. Maybe he deep down he doesn't want to know what they say, or maybe he isn't worried at all so he doesn't think they're important. Anyway....who knows what's going on in his head. But I refuse to call Horowitz' office to ask them to re certify the scans. I had tried to get an appointment with her to talk about my thyroid, and her office flunkies were extremely rude to me and would not schedule me, so they are the last people on earth I want to speak to right now. They can all go kiss my ass. Jim is going to have to do this one on his own.
Jim can't get used to his lower dentures because they keep rubbing on his scar tissue on the inside of his chin. Vanni said that Decidua will have to uncover the implants and put posts in them so that the dentures can finally get "installed" permanently, which should overcome his rubbing problem. Jim made that appointment himself and he goes this Thursday. I can't come with him because I have a phone cut-over for our Keasbey office scheduled for that day. Decidua is a great guy, but you have to go through his layers of residents, who are all idiots. Jim will just have to get adamant with them. We'll see what happens.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Sunday May 25, 2008 7:31 PM
Aiy yai yai....where to begin.
I've been feeling pretty lousy lately....developed some kind of cold or allergy....I don't know what. I was coughing up phelgm like crazy for the past couple of weeks and could tell I was getting bronchial. I treated myself with Zithromax and started feeling better, but as soon as I got off the Zithromax I was sick again. So I've been using prednisone, Zithromax again, Mucinex, Vicks cough medicine, and doing two nebulizer treatments a day. I'm starting to feel a little better as of today but if I'm not a lot better by Tuesday I guess I'll have to break down and go to the doctor. I hate going to my primary care physician. She's a nice lady but it's a total meat market in there. Plus then you wind up sitting next to someone sicker than you and you catch something worse than what you already have. I almost wish I could have a bronchoscopy like Jim had and finally suck this crap out of my lungs for good.
Last Sunday night my cat Rocky died. He had gone downhill fast from what was most likely cancer. I rushed him to the vet for an emergency visit but there was nothing that could be done, and I wound up having to put him down. The next morning I didn't want to tell Jimmy because there's no time in the morning....what was I going to do? "Jimmy....Rocky didn't make it, now get dressed, eat your breakfast, and get on the schoolbus...." No, I couldn't handle it that way. That afternoon my mother and Joe came down from Bloomfield to take him to his Little League game. When they got to the field, Jimmy was told by his friends there that he had been thrown out of Little League. AND NO ONE HAD CALLED TO TELL ME THIS!!!! Can you believe that shit? Those people are something else, boy. I'm almost relieved because I have no use for them. This year Little League has been very unpleasant. Last year everyone was jovial and got along. This year the crew I got stuck with is very stand-offish and the only time the head coach ever spoke to me other than to rag on me for something was when she asked to borrow a pen. So the crew came home with Jimmy and we're all sitting around eating dinner. I still hadn't told Jimmy about the cat. Then Jimmy says, "Rocky is really sick. Mommy thinks he might not make it, but I hope he does!" We all sat in silence looking at each other, and now I had to come out with it...."Jimmy...Rocky didn't make it last night. He's in kitty heaven." You can imagine how the rest went.
Wednesday night I took Jimmy to the pound in Philly to get another cat. We picked a gorgeous tabby with tons of personality, which Jimmy proceeded to name Rocky, after our dead cat. I dropped Jimmy back home and took the cat to the vet to get tested for Feline Leukemia and FIV. Our two cats at home are both negative, so any new animal we bring in has got to be negative too or else we'd risk the health of the two we already have. Well, guess what? The new cat was FIV positive. Now we had to tell Jimmy that he can't keep this cat. I felt awful. I had to keep the cat isolated in my bathroom overnight, and the next day Jim and I took the afternoon off to bring it back to the pound....BEFORE Jimmy got home from school. Now I was afraid to get another cat from this same pound because if the other animals there were exposed to this one for any period of time ALL of the cats there were now at risk, and I couldn't go through this again, so we stopped at a different pound and got a kitten. He's a little orange tabby which Jimmy named "Sammy" after a cat we had that died of cancer four years ago.
Remember how in my last post I had mentioned going to an endocrinologist in Philly last month? I had gone because I had all the symptoms of an underactive thyroid, and I was having a hell of a time convincing a doctor of this because my TSH levels were still technically in the normal range. The last straw was when I put on ten pounds in two weeks back in February. People don't just put on 10 lbs in two weeks....unless they've had a really good time with the cheesecake or something. The guy in Philly wanted to test me for other stuff, but didn't think I had a thyroid problem, so I went to another guy in Cherry Hill about a week ago. He had looked over my labs and drew more blood in his office and said he would call me with the results. Can you believe he actually called me today? On a Sunday, and over Memorial Day weekend? Turns out I was right. I have auto-immune thyroiditis, or Hashimoto's disease, so he called in a prescription for synthetic thyroid for me. THANK GOD! I start taking it tomorrow. I'm hoping that in a few weeks I may start to feel better.
I've been feeling pretty lousy lately....developed some kind of cold or allergy....I don't know what. I was coughing up phelgm like crazy for the past couple of weeks and could tell I was getting bronchial. I treated myself with Zithromax and started feeling better, but as soon as I got off the Zithromax I was sick again. So I've been using prednisone, Zithromax again, Mucinex, Vicks cough medicine, and doing two nebulizer treatments a day. I'm starting to feel a little better as of today but if I'm not a lot better by Tuesday I guess I'll have to break down and go to the doctor. I hate going to my primary care physician. She's a nice lady but it's a total meat market in there. Plus then you wind up sitting next to someone sicker than you and you catch something worse than what you already have. I almost wish I could have a bronchoscopy like Jim had and finally suck this crap out of my lungs for good.
Last Sunday night my cat Rocky died. He had gone downhill fast from what was most likely cancer. I rushed him to the vet for an emergency visit but there was nothing that could be done, and I wound up having to put him down. The next morning I didn't want to tell Jimmy because there's no time in the morning....what was I going to do? "Jimmy....Rocky didn't make it, now get dressed, eat your breakfast, and get on the schoolbus...." No, I couldn't handle it that way. That afternoon my mother and Joe came down from Bloomfield to take him to his Little League game. When they got to the field, Jimmy was told by his friends there that he had been thrown out of Little League. AND NO ONE HAD CALLED TO TELL ME THIS!!!! Can you believe that shit? Those people are something else, boy. I'm almost relieved because I have no use for them. This year Little League has been very unpleasant. Last year everyone was jovial and got along. This year the crew I got stuck with is very stand-offish and the only time the head coach ever spoke to me other than to rag on me for something was when she asked to borrow a pen. So the crew came home with Jimmy and we're all sitting around eating dinner. I still hadn't told Jimmy about the cat. Then Jimmy says, "Rocky is really sick. Mommy thinks he might not make it, but I hope he does!" We all sat in silence looking at each other, and now I had to come out with it...."Jimmy...Rocky didn't make it last night. He's in kitty heaven." You can imagine how the rest went.
Wednesday night I took Jimmy to the pound in Philly to get another cat. We picked a gorgeous tabby with tons of personality, which Jimmy proceeded to name Rocky, after our dead cat. I dropped Jimmy back home and took the cat to the vet to get tested for Feline Leukemia and FIV. Our two cats at home are both negative, so any new animal we bring in has got to be negative too or else we'd risk the health of the two we already have. Well, guess what? The new cat was FIV positive. Now we had to tell Jimmy that he can't keep this cat. I felt awful. I had to keep the cat isolated in my bathroom overnight, and the next day Jim and I took the afternoon off to bring it back to the pound....BEFORE Jimmy got home from school. Now I was afraid to get another cat from this same pound because if the other animals there were exposed to this one for any period of time ALL of the cats there were now at risk, and I couldn't go through this again, so we stopped at a different pound and got a kitten. He's a little orange tabby which Jimmy named "Sammy" after a cat we had that died of cancer four years ago.
Remember how in my last post I had mentioned going to an endocrinologist in Philly last month? I had gone because I had all the symptoms of an underactive thyroid, and I was having a hell of a time convincing a doctor of this because my TSH levels were still technically in the normal range. The last straw was when I put on ten pounds in two weeks back in February. People don't just put on 10 lbs in two weeks....unless they've had a really good time with the cheesecake or something. The guy in Philly wanted to test me for other stuff, but didn't think I had a thyroid problem, so I went to another guy in Cherry Hill about a week ago. He had looked over my labs and drew more blood in his office and said he would call me with the results. Can you believe he actually called me today? On a Sunday, and over Memorial Day weekend? Turns out I was right. I have auto-immune thyroiditis, or Hashimoto's disease, so he called in a prescription for synthetic thyroid for me. THANK GOD! I start taking it tomorrow. I'm hoping that in a few weeks I may start to feel better.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Thursday April 17, 2008 10:20 PM
I haven't posted in awhile because my step-sister was out from Idaho visiting. We went up to North Jersey for a few days to be tour guides around Manhattan. But being relative natives, we never go, so I don't know how useful we were as tour guides.
Jim got his dentures last Wednesday. The uppers look pretty good. They actually look natural. I hate the bottoms. They're still too close to the uppers...it almost looks like Jim has an under bite. If you've been following my Vanni-rants, his first excuse was that the implants were put in a certain place so it dictated the way he positioned the lowers. Then he said that he had to put the lowers where he did because Jim wouldn't be able to chew with an overbite. Now he tells Jim that he had to put the lowers where he did because of the plate in Jim's jaw. So which is it, Vanni? Give me a break. I think Vanni knows they don't look too great so he's just getting creative with the excuses hoping he'll fine one that I actually BUY, but he hasn't lucked out yet. So Vanni told Jim to get used to the wearing the uppers alone first, then put the lowers in with the uppers. But Jim can't stand the lowers and really hasn't worn them at all except for the first day. And he can't eat very well with either one. The lowers slip, which is normal, until they get finished off with the posts for the implants to hold them in place, but Vanni won't finish those implants yet. He still wants to wait awhile, so until Jim gets used to these teeth and learns to speak with them and eat with them, there won't be any going back for round two of therapy. There won't be any point until Jim's comfortable and learns how to cope with them. I think we're in for a much longer ride than I thought. This is getting so OLD.
On the day Jim got his teeth we had all trekked into South Philly to get cheese steaks at Geno's. I have lived outside of Philly for four years and have never had a Philly cheese steak, and we thought it would be a good tourist place to bring my step-sister and her friend. Of course, Jim couldn't eat the cheese steak because he still can't swallow bread, so he got cheese fries instead. Well, as we sat down to eat there were two camera crews there and we all got on the t.v. news that night. They caught me chomping on food. Very attractive.
Speaking of trouble eating....our guests and Jim and Jimmy and I all went to an Italian restaurant in Manhattan last week for dinner. As you know, Jim still can't swallow very well, never mind chew, so he has to be choosy about what he orders on a menu....there's very little that he can get down, but he picked homemade ravioli. He said it was delicious, but about ten minutes after eating it he excused himself and went into the bathroom to cough it all up, because it got stuck and wouldn't go down. I guess the crappy Barilla I buy in the store is of a consistency that he can swallow, but the homemade stuff just got stuck. Well, at least he got to TASTE the food, if not digest it, so we went back to my mother's house that night and Jim feasted on Cheese Puffs.
I saw an endocrinologist in Philly last week also and I'm supposed to get some bloodwork done and also pick up a container to do a twenty-four-hour urine test, like the one that Jim and Jimmy had, because this guy wants to check ME for a pheo. They talked about it while I was at Lahey but never worked me up for one. This guy says I'm too young to have the heart issues that I have and he'd like to explore some possible reasons for it. Hmmmm....Where have I heard that before? But I'm not worried. I think I've got heart issues because of genetics and just plain old shit happens. One of these mornings that I can deal with leaving the house without coffee I'll go get the blood drawn. That's going to be a tough one. Coffee is almost as important as oxygen.
Jim got his dentures last Wednesday. The uppers look pretty good. They actually look natural. I hate the bottoms. They're still too close to the uppers...it almost looks like Jim has an under bite. If you've been following my Vanni-rants, his first excuse was that the implants were put in a certain place so it dictated the way he positioned the lowers. Then he said that he had to put the lowers where he did because Jim wouldn't be able to chew with an overbite. Now he tells Jim that he had to put the lowers where he did because of the plate in Jim's jaw. So which is it, Vanni? Give me a break. I think Vanni knows they don't look too great so he's just getting creative with the excuses hoping he'll fine one that I actually BUY, but he hasn't lucked out yet. So Vanni told Jim to get used to the wearing the uppers alone first, then put the lowers in with the uppers. But Jim can't stand the lowers and really hasn't worn them at all except for the first day. And he can't eat very well with either one. The lowers slip, which is normal, until they get finished off with the posts for the implants to hold them in place, but Vanni won't finish those implants yet. He still wants to wait awhile, so until Jim gets used to these teeth and learns to speak with them and eat with them, there won't be any going back for round two of therapy. There won't be any point until Jim's comfortable and learns how to cope with them. I think we're in for a much longer ride than I thought. This is getting so OLD.
On the day Jim got his teeth we had all trekked into South Philly to get cheese steaks at Geno's. I have lived outside of Philly for four years and have never had a Philly cheese steak, and we thought it would be a good tourist place to bring my step-sister and her friend. Of course, Jim couldn't eat the cheese steak because he still can't swallow bread, so he got cheese fries instead. Well, as we sat down to eat there were two camera crews there and we all got on the t.v. news that night. They caught me chomping on food. Very attractive.
Speaking of trouble eating....our guests and Jim and Jimmy and I all went to an Italian restaurant in Manhattan last week for dinner. As you know, Jim still can't swallow very well, never mind chew, so he has to be choosy about what he orders on a menu....there's very little that he can get down, but he picked homemade ravioli. He said it was delicious, but about ten minutes after eating it he excused himself and went into the bathroom to cough it all up, because it got stuck and wouldn't go down. I guess the crappy Barilla I buy in the store is of a consistency that he can swallow, but the homemade stuff just got stuck. Well, at least he got to TASTE the food, if not digest it, so we went back to my mother's house that night and Jim feasted on Cheese Puffs.
I saw an endocrinologist in Philly last week also and I'm supposed to get some bloodwork done and also pick up a container to do a twenty-four-hour urine test, like the one that Jim and Jimmy had, because this guy wants to check ME for a pheo. They talked about it while I was at Lahey but never worked me up for one. This guy says I'm too young to have the heart issues that I have and he'd like to explore some possible reasons for it. Hmmmm....Where have I heard that before? But I'm not worried. I think I've got heart issues because of genetics and just plain old shit happens. One of these mornings that I can deal with leaving the house without coffee I'll go get the blood drawn. That's going to be a tough one. Coffee is almost as important as oxygen.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Tuesday April 1, 2008 10:15 PM
Update with a funny twist here (or at least I thought it was funny)...Jim had his appointment with infectious disease today. I wasn't going to go with him because he's been there before, but then I reconsidered. Jim tends to leave details out and I don't want to have to go back and try to play clean up over the phone, so off we went.
It POURED here right at the time we had to walk across the Patco lot to the train. Jim was being a little bastard hogging the umbrella, so I put my hood on and schlepped it. We were both soaked, but I don't care what Jim says....I was soaked worse. Even my sweater was soaked under my rain jacket. Jim said I looked like I was lactating. Ha ha ha. There's nothing worse than sitting around an air-conditioned doctor's office in soaking wet jeans.
So I asked Jim if he wanted me to do the talking. He's still embarrassed to talk without teeth, so he said yes. I said, "Then don't get annoyed with me when you don't like what I'm saying." Belden comes in, and I reminded her who we were, reminded her that she said not to worry about MRSA unless Jim developed a skin infection, told her that it looked to me like Jim had folliculitis all over his chest and his back, and told her I thought the folliculitis might have been brought on by MRSA still in his body. She looked at his red lumps, turned to me and said, "You're exactly right. Do you have a medical degree?" and I said, "No, but I'm like the guy who has had everything go wrong with his cars, so I can tell what's wrong with YOUR car because I've been there already." And I've seen folliculitis because my ex had it once. So she wrote a script for an antibiotic, I can't remember the name but it's in the tetracycline family so it's what they use for zits, and sent us on our way. I guess I shouldn't be sharing a bath sponge with Jim. Duh. I should have thought of that before.
Jim's still hacking and coughing up phlegm balls. Getting soaked in the rain didn't help at all. This drug is also a mild anti-inflammatory so I'm hoping it may help his goopy lungs too. We just have to watch if it makes his c-diff flare.
It POURED here right at the time we had to walk across the Patco lot to the train. Jim was being a little bastard hogging the umbrella, so I put my hood on and schlepped it. We were both soaked, but I don't care what Jim says....I was soaked worse. Even my sweater was soaked under my rain jacket. Jim said I looked like I was lactating. Ha ha ha. There's nothing worse than sitting around an air-conditioned doctor's office in soaking wet jeans.
So I asked Jim if he wanted me to do the talking. He's still embarrassed to talk without teeth, so he said yes. I said, "Then don't get annoyed with me when you don't like what I'm saying." Belden comes in, and I reminded her who we were, reminded her that she said not to worry about MRSA unless Jim developed a skin infection, told her that it looked to me like Jim had folliculitis all over his chest and his back, and told her I thought the folliculitis might have been brought on by MRSA still in his body. She looked at his red lumps, turned to me and said, "You're exactly right. Do you have a medical degree?" and I said, "No, but I'm like the guy who has had everything go wrong with his cars, so I can tell what's wrong with YOUR car because I've been there already." And I've seen folliculitis because my ex had it once. So she wrote a script for an antibiotic, I can't remember the name but it's in the tetracycline family so it's what they use for zits, and sent us on our way. I guess I shouldn't be sharing a bath sponge with Jim. Duh. I should have thought of that before.
Jim's still hacking and coughing up phlegm balls. Getting soaked in the rain didn't help at all. This drug is also a mild anti-inflammatory so I'm hoping it may help his goopy lungs too. We just have to watch if it makes his c-diff flare.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sunday March 30, 2008 8:45 PM
Friday morning Jim woke up with that nasty flu-like bug that's been going around. He was down for the count. Since his lungs have been hammered by pneumonia and MRSA infection I wasn't going to wait a week for him to develop bronchitis...I just made him take Zithromax from the get-go. I have it in the house because I used to get bronchitis every year. And I made him do his breathing treatment with his nebulizer. By the next day he was feeling much better. Not great, but better. Everyone calls Dr. Pam when they get sick. Just today my mother showed me Joe's MRI results to see if I understood what they said. Unfortunately, the only reason I know what I know is because I've had so much shit go wrong with me over the years, or people close to me have had a lot of shit go wrong. It's like the person who knows alot about car repairs because they've had everything under the sun go wrong with their own car. Had I lived two or three hundred years ago I would have been the old biddy in the village digging up roots and herbs that people called instead of a doctor. "Ezekiel! Go fetch Mamma Primiani!" And then they probably would have stoned my ass for being a witch if the kids in the village laughed too much.
So I guess Jim will live. He's got an appointment this week in Philly with Dr. Belden in infectious disease. In the meantime, I've relegated myself to the guest bedroom so I can stay away from his germs as much as possible.
So I guess Jim will live. He's got an appointment this week in Philly with Dr. Belden in infectious disease. In the meantime, I've relegated myself to the guest bedroom so I can stay away from his germs as much as possible.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Thursday March 27, 2008 10;25 PM
So here's the latest really f-'d-up tale. Let me start from the beginning...
When I had scheduled Jim for his year-later follow-up visit with Dr. Horowitz, the endocrinologist who found Jim's tumor in his neck, I had asked if I could make an appointment to see her as well to talk about what's up with me....do I have a thyroid problem? Insulin resistance? Or am I just getting fat? For those of you who have never tried to get an appointment with an endocrinologist before, it's almost impossible. When the doctors at Deborah Heart and Lung had given up on finding Jim's tumor they told him to see one. He went through the entire list of doctors in our health plan. No one would even schedule him. One of them even said to him, "If the dcotors at Deborah couldn't find any tumor, the doctor won't see you." This just shows some of the ignorance of these people who work the phones in doctor's offices. If you can break through the front lines you're o.k., but trying to break through those lines is almost impossible. In the end, Horowitz was the only one Jim could even MAKE an appointment with, and even that took about 6 weeks to get. So I figured that Horowitz' office at least KNOWS me, and maybe I can get in. They refused to schedule me. They got really nasty too, saying something like, "Well, that's the office RULES...." so you all know me and you know what I had to say about that. Well, I refuse to go into that office anymore or even speak to those bitches, so I sent Jim into his appointment on his own.
When Jim went in to see her, he told her about how nasty her people had been to me and first she apologized and offered to schedule me, but in the meantime I managed to get an appointment with someone at Thomas Jefferson in Philly the second week of April, so thanks but no thanks. Next, she wrote Jim a script for him to get an MRI, but the script was extremely vague. It said something about "MRI of head and neck, to abdomen as needed"...plus it didn't say whether the scan was to be with or without IV contrast. Well, I knew that wasn't going to fly with South Jersey Radiology, but I tried to schedule it anyway. Sure enough, they said Horowitz had to be more specific. So I told Jim to call and straighten this shit out. Normally I would do it, but as you know, I'm not dealing with those bitches anymore. They mailed another script home, which was still fairly vague, but South Jersey Radiology said they'd take some preliminary info from us and then try to get more info from Horowitz themselves. So the woman is asking me questions about Jim.....Is he allergic to I.V. contrast? No. Does he have any metal in his body? OOOOPPPPPSSSS. I should have thought about that one before we even bothered to schedule this. Jim can't have an MRI....the "M" in MRI stands for Magnetic. He's got a plate in his jaw and a metal clamp holding his carotid artery closed. Then I said to the tech, "You know, there's a question of whether or not his vagus nerve has been cut. The surgeon who removed his tumor said it was, but there's nothing to that effect in his OP notes. A CAT scan is just going to show a mass, if there IS one. Wouldn't a PET scan be a better idea? You guys just recently got a PET scan machine, didn't you?" She said yes. And she said that by the time insurance would be billed for the three MRI's that Horowitz asked for, that would be the same cost as one PET scan anyway, so a PET would be a better choice.
In case you didn't know, the PET scan has been around for awhile, but there weren't many places that had the machines. Now they're popping up all over the place. The color pic of Jim's tumor on this blog came from the PET scan Dr. Jewell did on Jim during his consultation at Lahey last January. Lahey was unusual back then to have even done that- they didn't have them at South Jersey Radiology last year. But there have recently been articles in the local paper about JFK Hospital in Washington Twp getting one, as well as South Jersey Radiology in Turnersville, which is why I knew that South Jersey Radiology just got one.
So now I regret not going with Jim because I would have suggested that if we're doing a scan on Jim anyway, why not pick a scan that might show whether or not that nerve is cut. If you remember back to my account of Jim's first surgery, Dr. Jewell at first told me that he didn't have to cut any vital nerves....he just had to do a lot of damage pulling and stretching to get the tumor out completely, and it would take a very long time for Jim to get all of his functions back. About a week or so later he told me that he had had to cut Jim's vagus nerve right where it comes off the spine, which was why one side of Jim's larynx was permanently paralyzed. After Jim left Lahey and I got the hospital to send me Jewell's operating notes, there was no mention of a vagus nerve cut in there. Plus when Spiegel checked his larynx months later with a camera, we all saw both sides of the larynx moving. So what is it? Is the nerve cut or not? It might be a nice thing to know. Will the PET scan show that? I don't really know, but as far as I DO know, it's the most detailed thing out there, unless Horowitz tells me otherwise.
Then I had to break down and actually call those bitches at her office and explain what was going on. They said the doctor would call back. Yeah, right. I think I'll have to write a letter with the details, sign Jim's name, and fax it like I had to do with Spiegel's office when those idiots who answer the phone couldn't comprehend what we were trying to tell them. I'll give it until next week.
When I had scheduled Jim for his year-later follow-up visit with Dr. Horowitz, the endocrinologist who found Jim's tumor in his neck, I had asked if I could make an appointment to see her as well to talk about what's up with me....do I have a thyroid problem? Insulin resistance? Or am I just getting fat? For those of you who have never tried to get an appointment with an endocrinologist before, it's almost impossible. When the doctors at Deborah Heart and Lung had given up on finding Jim's tumor they told him to see one. He went through the entire list of doctors in our health plan. No one would even schedule him. One of them even said to him, "If the dcotors at Deborah couldn't find any tumor, the doctor won't see you." This just shows some of the ignorance of these people who work the phones in doctor's offices. If you can break through the front lines you're o.k., but trying to break through those lines is almost impossible. In the end, Horowitz was the only one Jim could even MAKE an appointment with, and even that took about 6 weeks to get. So I figured that Horowitz' office at least KNOWS me, and maybe I can get in. They refused to schedule me. They got really nasty too, saying something like, "Well, that's the office RULES...." so you all know me and you know what I had to say about that. Well, I refuse to go into that office anymore or even speak to those bitches, so I sent Jim into his appointment on his own.
When Jim went in to see her, he told her about how nasty her people had been to me and first she apologized and offered to schedule me, but in the meantime I managed to get an appointment with someone at Thomas Jefferson in Philly the second week of April, so thanks but no thanks. Next, she wrote Jim a script for him to get an MRI, but the script was extremely vague. It said something about "MRI of head and neck, to abdomen as needed"...plus it didn't say whether the scan was to be with or without IV contrast. Well, I knew that wasn't going to fly with South Jersey Radiology, but I tried to schedule it anyway. Sure enough, they said Horowitz had to be more specific. So I told Jim to call and straighten this shit out. Normally I would do it, but as you know, I'm not dealing with those bitches anymore. They mailed another script home, which was still fairly vague, but South Jersey Radiology said they'd take some preliminary info from us and then try to get more info from Horowitz themselves. So the woman is asking me questions about Jim.....Is he allergic to I.V. contrast? No. Does he have any metal in his body? OOOOPPPPPSSSS. I should have thought about that one before we even bothered to schedule this. Jim can't have an MRI....the "M" in MRI stands for Magnetic. He's got a plate in his jaw and a metal clamp holding his carotid artery closed. Then I said to the tech, "You know, there's a question of whether or not his vagus nerve has been cut. The surgeon who removed his tumor said it was, but there's nothing to that effect in his OP notes. A CAT scan is just going to show a mass, if there IS one. Wouldn't a PET scan be a better idea? You guys just recently got a PET scan machine, didn't you?" She said yes. And she said that by the time insurance would be billed for the three MRI's that Horowitz asked for, that would be the same cost as one PET scan anyway, so a PET would be a better choice.
In case you didn't know, the PET scan has been around for awhile, but there weren't many places that had the machines. Now they're popping up all over the place. The color pic of Jim's tumor on this blog came from the PET scan Dr. Jewell did on Jim during his consultation at Lahey last January. Lahey was unusual back then to have even done that- they didn't have them at South Jersey Radiology last year. But there have recently been articles in the local paper about JFK Hospital in Washington Twp getting one, as well as South Jersey Radiology in Turnersville, which is why I knew that South Jersey Radiology just got one.
So now I regret not going with Jim because I would have suggested that if we're doing a scan on Jim anyway, why not pick a scan that might show whether or not that nerve is cut. If you remember back to my account of Jim's first surgery, Dr. Jewell at first told me that he didn't have to cut any vital nerves....he just had to do a lot of damage pulling and stretching to get the tumor out completely, and it would take a very long time for Jim to get all of his functions back. About a week or so later he told me that he had had to cut Jim's vagus nerve right where it comes off the spine, which was why one side of Jim's larynx was permanently paralyzed. After Jim left Lahey and I got the hospital to send me Jewell's operating notes, there was no mention of a vagus nerve cut in there. Plus when Spiegel checked his larynx months later with a camera, we all saw both sides of the larynx moving. So what is it? Is the nerve cut or not? It might be a nice thing to know. Will the PET scan show that? I don't really know, but as far as I DO know, it's the most detailed thing out there, unless Horowitz tells me otherwise.
Then I had to break down and actually call those bitches at her office and explain what was going on. They said the doctor would call back. Yeah, right. I think I'll have to write a letter with the details, sign Jim's name, and fax it like I had to do with Spiegel's office when those idiots who answer the phone couldn't comprehend what we were trying to tell them. I'll give it until next week.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Thursday March 20, 2008 11:00 PM
Here I was all proud of myself that I actually sat down before April to go through my income tax deductions and get them ready for the accountant. I was going to get it all out in the mail tomorrow and everything....then I see that I can get all my bank statement information online except the records for my home equity line of credit that I used for about 10K of Jim's tooth work. Great. So I call the bank and ask, "What's up with that? I don't keep the paper statements! I thought I could get everything online!" and they say, "NO WAY, JOSE- you can get everything BUT the home equity account records online...we'll have to mail them to you." So much for being ready. All I can say is, we've got MEGA deductions for last year. Know how much just the parking was at the Lahey Clinic garage? $336.00. I think all the medical deductions are going to add up to the equivalent of some people's average yearly incomes.
Jim didn't want me to mention this, but since when do I listen? I think his staph infection is back so I'm going to have to get him back in to the infectious disease specialist at Thomas Jefferson. He's got what looks like folliculitis all over the front of his chest and on his back. I filled the prescription that doctor Belden gave him awhile ago for some ointment that he's supposed to stick up his nose everyday, and he's also tried rubbing the ointment on these boils, but he'd better get in to see her anyway. It's always something. You just can't win. But before anyone panics about being around him, unless you touch his folliculitis you won't be in any danger, and I don't think anyone is going to touch his folliculitis. I don't know for sure it's his staph back, but that's a common sign so I guess we'd better find out. Staph is present in a large portion of the population, and Dr. Belden said that once you've contracted it, it's almost impossible to eradicate from your body permanently.
We got more solicitations from Lahey Clinic for donations. Ha ha ha. Did they get Jim's tumor out? Yeah. But we didn't appreciate the MRSA infection and the c-diff very much. My digestive system still isn't 100 percent back to normal from that one.
Saturday night we've got tickets for Wanda Sykes at the Borgata in Atlantic City. My step-sister from Idaho was asking me if Jim minds going out with no teeth. Her husband just had to get all his teeth pulled and is waiting for his dentures, and the man is miserable right now and won't leave the house. I told her that Jim's had no teeth for so long it's almost become the new norm for him.
So we've hit another Easter. Now that we're a year out of Hell Year I can't help but compare where we were this time last year. Jim still had his feeding tube then and we couldn't have Easter dinner. We're not doing much this year, but my brother-in-law is staying over Saturday night to watch Jimmy (Nicky has no kids and has never babysat before, so who will be watching who I wonder?) and it will just be the four of us on Easter Sunday. Jimmy says he wants chicken. Jim can get it down if he sloshes it with ketchup or barbeque sauce, so chicken it is.
Jim didn't want me to mention this, but since when do I listen? I think his staph infection is back so I'm going to have to get him back in to the infectious disease specialist at Thomas Jefferson. He's got what looks like folliculitis all over the front of his chest and on his back. I filled the prescription that doctor Belden gave him awhile ago for some ointment that he's supposed to stick up his nose everyday, and he's also tried rubbing the ointment on these boils, but he'd better get in to see her anyway. It's always something. You just can't win. But before anyone panics about being around him, unless you touch his folliculitis you won't be in any danger, and I don't think anyone is going to touch his folliculitis. I don't know for sure it's his staph back, but that's a common sign so I guess we'd better find out. Staph is present in a large portion of the population, and Dr. Belden said that once you've contracted it, it's almost impossible to eradicate from your body permanently.
We got more solicitations from Lahey Clinic for donations. Ha ha ha. Did they get Jim's tumor out? Yeah. But we didn't appreciate the MRSA infection and the c-diff very much. My digestive system still isn't 100 percent back to normal from that one.
Saturday night we've got tickets for Wanda Sykes at the Borgata in Atlantic City. My step-sister from Idaho was asking me if Jim minds going out with no teeth. Her husband just had to get all his teeth pulled and is waiting for his dentures, and the man is miserable right now and won't leave the house. I told her that Jim's had no teeth for so long it's almost become the new norm for him.
So we've hit another Easter. Now that we're a year out of Hell Year I can't help but compare where we were this time last year. Jim still had his feeding tube then and we couldn't have Easter dinner. We're not doing much this year, but my brother-in-law is staying over Saturday night to watch Jimmy (Nicky has no kids and has never babysat before, so who will be watching who I wonder?) and it will just be the four of us on Easter Sunday. Jimmy says he wants chicken. Jim can get it down if he sloshes it with ketchup or barbeque sauce, so chicken it is.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Monday March 17th 2008 10:55 PM
We had another trip to Dr. Vanni today to try on the wax model. I can tell Jim was getting anxious about it because he's had trouble sleeping the past few nights. Well, what was the verdict? Mmmmmmmm......well......
The top teeth looked much better than the last time. We told Vanni to go ahead and make the dentures- I just don't think they're going to get any better. Here's the problem: Most people have some level of overbite. So here's a little experiment I want everyone to try....take your lower teeth and push them forward until they're lined up exactly with your upper teeth. Now look at yourself in the mirror. You look kind of stupid, right? It just doesn't look natural. THAT'S the problem with these dentures that Vanni made. At Jim's first try-on I asked Vanni why he had corrected SO MUCH on Jim's overbite. Vanni said it was because of the position that Decidua had put the lower implants in. O.k....I can buy that. Today Vanni says that if he pushed the lowers back any further that Jim wouldn't be able to chew. Well, that's bullshit. Everyone has some sort of an overbite and we can all chew. Jim and I are hoping that down the road Vanni will either adjust them, or finally decide that the implants should be placed differently. Would Jim need another surgery to re-position them? Yeah, sure. But we'll worry about that when the time comes. In the meantime we just can't complain anymore because it won't get us anywhere.
Jim goes back in three weeks. In the beginning Vanni just wants him to wear the uppers until he gets used to them, and later on he'll wear the lowers as well. Vanni had put in a temporary post and crown for me when I broke a tooth a couple of weeks ago and I'm supposed to go back for the permanent crown next week. I wonder what the hell kind of a big monstrosity he's going to put in MY mouth? Maybe a replica of stonehenge?
As for me, I've been feeling pretty lousy. I put on ten pounds in a very short period of time and can't shake it. On top of that, I'm queasy all the time, exhausted, my brain is in a fog, and just had blood work done to check my thyroid and some other metabolic stuff. My triglycerides are through the roof, which either means my triglycerides are just through the roof, or I could be hypothyroid or insulin-resistant. I can't get in to see an endocrinologist until early April. Oh well. I'll live. I always do.
The top teeth looked much better than the last time. We told Vanni to go ahead and make the dentures- I just don't think they're going to get any better. Here's the problem: Most people have some level of overbite. So here's a little experiment I want everyone to try....take your lower teeth and push them forward until they're lined up exactly with your upper teeth. Now look at yourself in the mirror. You look kind of stupid, right? It just doesn't look natural. THAT'S the problem with these dentures that Vanni made. At Jim's first try-on I asked Vanni why he had corrected SO MUCH on Jim's overbite. Vanni said it was because of the position that Decidua had put the lower implants in. O.k....I can buy that. Today Vanni says that if he pushed the lowers back any further that Jim wouldn't be able to chew. Well, that's bullshit. Everyone has some sort of an overbite and we can all chew. Jim and I are hoping that down the road Vanni will either adjust them, or finally decide that the implants should be placed differently. Would Jim need another surgery to re-position them? Yeah, sure. But we'll worry about that when the time comes. In the meantime we just can't complain anymore because it won't get us anywhere.
Jim goes back in three weeks. In the beginning Vanni just wants him to wear the uppers until he gets used to them, and later on he'll wear the lowers as well. Vanni had put in a temporary post and crown for me when I broke a tooth a couple of weeks ago and I'm supposed to go back for the permanent crown next week. I wonder what the hell kind of a big monstrosity he's going to put in MY mouth? Maybe a replica of stonehenge?
As for me, I've been feeling pretty lousy. I put on ten pounds in a very short period of time and can't shake it. On top of that, I'm queasy all the time, exhausted, my brain is in a fog, and just had blood work done to check my thyroid and some other metabolic stuff. My triglycerides are through the roof, which either means my triglycerides are just through the roof, or I could be hypothyroid or insulin-resistant. I can't get in to see an endocrinologist until early April. Oh well. I'll live. I always do.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Sunday March 9th 2008 8:00 PM
Nothing much new. Jim doesn't go back to Vanni until the 17th. Even then, if things go well with the wax model, it will be another month from that date until Jim goes for his first try on with the dentures. I don't know of ANYONE with dentures where it took five months to get the damn teeth. Jim was originally going to have to just wear them as regular dentures until the implants were in for six months. At this rate the implants can be finished off by the time he gets the dentures.
In the meantime, I ate one of my teeth off with my corn flakes. It was the first molar on the top left that I had had a root canal done on about six months ago, and I had never gone for the post and crown, so it was my own damn fault. But I looked like a piney. I made an appointment with Dr. Drain a few days after it happened. Her staff member told me I was due for a cleaning too. I said, if you guys want to clean them while I'm there, that's fine, but I need this tooth fixed, if it CAN be fixed. I show up to the appointment and they tell me Dr. Drain's in surgery and can;t look at my tooth. I was PISSED. I started raving....What did you book me for this time for, then? I made it VERY clear that the broken tooth was the reason for my coming in! And Dr. Drain's husband, who's the office manager, starts ragging on me why I haven't come in for my veneers across the front yet. I said, "I told you guys last summer that I was not doing the veneers. My husband needs too much work for me to spend money on something cosmetic!" So they gave me an appointment for March 18th. No way in hell was I waiting until March 18th with this gaping hole in my mouth. SO I called Vanni's office and they could take me the following week. My appointment with Vanni was this past Tuesday, and luckily I had broken the tooth in a good way, if there can be such a thing. He was able to put a temporary crown on and he took impressions for a permanent one that I go back for at the end of the month.
Of course, every time I complained about my Piney tooth Jim keeps ribbing me. I can't complain about my one missing tooth while he's missing all of them.
In the meantime, I ate one of my teeth off with my corn flakes. It was the first molar on the top left that I had had a root canal done on about six months ago, and I had never gone for the post and crown, so it was my own damn fault. But I looked like a piney. I made an appointment with Dr. Drain a few days after it happened. Her staff member told me I was due for a cleaning too. I said, if you guys want to clean them while I'm there, that's fine, but I need this tooth fixed, if it CAN be fixed. I show up to the appointment and they tell me Dr. Drain's in surgery and can;t look at my tooth. I was PISSED. I started raving....What did you book me for this time for, then? I made it VERY clear that the broken tooth was the reason for my coming in! And Dr. Drain's husband, who's the office manager, starts ragging on me why I haven't come in for my veneers across the front yet. I said, "I told you guys last summer that I was not doing the veneers. My husband needs too much work for me to spend money on something cosmetic!" So they gave me an appointment for March 18th. No way in hell was I waiting until March 18th with this gaping hole in my mouth. SO I called Vanni's office and they could take me the following week. My appointment with Vanni was this past Tuesday, and luckily I had broken the tooth in a good way, if there can be such a thing. He was able to put a temporary crown on and he took impressions for a permanent one that I go back for at the end of the month.
Of course, every time I complained about my Piney tooth Jim keeps ribbing me. I can't complain about my one missing tooth while he's missing all of them.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Wednesday February 20, 2008 8:00 PM
Valentine's Day was the one-year anniversary of Jim's first surgery. Needless to say, this Valentine's Day was much better. It feels like this all started 100 years ago.
Jim went for his second tooth with wax model fitting this past Monday. Ugh. If the model had looked good at this point Vanni would have then sent them out for the dentures to be made. They looked horrible. I think they even looked worse this time than they did the last time. When Vanni popped them into Jim's mouth it was almost like looking at a car accident....it's horrible to look at but you can't seem to turn yourself away. As soon as Jim turned towards me my mind went...OOOOHHHH....OOOHHHH...NOOOOOO....MUST....LOOK.....AWAY! Vanni saw the look on my face and didn't even ask Jim how HE liked the teeth. He just said he'd adjust them again. What I don't understand is, Jim never had BIG teeth. Why did Vanni make these things so friggin BIG? Here's an old picture I dug up of Jim before his teeth went really, really bad. His teeth (back when he HAD them) were not big:
Here's what the false teeth looked like on Monday:
No way....no way. I told Jim that I know he's anxious to get his teeth so he can move on with his therapy, BUT HE CAN'T GO THROUGH LIFE LOOKING LIKE MR. ED! He just can't. And how could Vanni have thought those horse teeth looked good? Those false teeth were some big ass teeth. I mean, just because Jim needs dentures does Vanni have some attitude like Jim doesn't deserve to look good? Vanni seems to be careless in this department, and false teeth are supposed to be his specialty. Are all people with dentures undeserving in some way? If that was Brad Pitt sitting in that chair Vanni would never have popped those monstrosities in HIS mouth. Back to the drawing board I guess.
This Friday Jim goes back to Dr. Horowitz to talk about getting another CAT scan to make sure there's no more pheo's growing back. Then Friday afternoon he has an appointment with the pulmonologist, Dr. DeBoer. I think Jim needs another bronchospocy. I think he's still aspirating his food. Jim and I have bets on whether or not DeBoer will send him for one. We shall see.
Jim went for his second tooth with wax model fitting this past Monday. Ugh. If the model had looked good at this point Vanni would have then sent them out for the dentures to be made. They looked horrible. I think they even looked worse this time than they did the last time. When Vanni popped them into Jim's mouth it was almost like looking at a car accident....it's horrible to look at but you can't seem to turn yourself away. As soon as Jim turned towards me my mind went...OOOOHHHH....OOOHHHH...NOOOOOO....MUST....LOOK.....AWAY! Vanni saw the look on my face and didn't even ask Jim how HE liked the teeth. He just said he'd adjust them again. What I don't understand is, Jim never had BIG teeth. Why did Vanni make these things so friggin BIG? Here's an old picture I dug up of Jim before his teeth went really, really bad. His teeth (back when he HAD them) were not big:
Here's what the false teeth looked like on Monday:
No way....no way. I told Jim that I know he's anxious to get his teeth so he can move on with his therapy, BUT HE CAN'T GO THROUGH LIFE LOOKING LIKE MR. ED! He just can't. And how could Vanni have thought those horse teeth looked good? Those false teeth were some big ass teeth. I mean, just because Jim needs dentures does Vanni have some attitude like Jim doesn't deserve to look good? Vanni seems to be careless in this department, and false teeth are supposed to be his specialty. Are all people with dentures undeserving in some way? If that was Brad Pitt sitting in that chair Vanni would never have popped those monstrosities in HIS mouth. Back to the drawing board I guess.
This Friday Jim goes back to Dr. Horowitz to talk about getting another CAT scan to make sure there's no more pheo's growing back. Then Friday afternoon he has an appointment with the pulmonologist, Dr. DeBoer. I think Jim needs another bronchospocy. I think he's still aspirating his food. Jim and I have bets on whether or not DeBoer will send him for one. We shall see.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Tuesday January 29, 2008 12:35 AM
Yes, it's past 12:30 in the morning and I'm up. Jim is STILL at Miele waiting for the wiring crew to finish. We're hoping they'll be done by tomorrow....oops, today....sometime this afternoon.
Jim didn't get his teeth yet. He went to Vanni and Vanni had them set in wax for try-on. He's got to tweak them some more. Because Jim can't open his mouth that wide since his vagus nerve is damaged, Vanni has to create more space between the upper and lower dentures, otherwise there wouldn't be room for food to fit in between the teeth and they would be useless to Jim. He goes back in two weeks. At that time, the teeth will still be set in wax, but if everything looks o.k., Vanni will finally have them set into dentures. So I guess we're talking ANOTHER month.
I think the Lexapro withdrawal is starting to ease up a little for me. I read about some holistic doctor who recommended four supplements for Lexapro withdrawal symptoms, so I tried them. They are "conjugated linoleic acid", "Omega 3 fish oil", "Vitamin E", and "Calcium with magnesium". Now, I'm not typically into supplements or one to tout things that are "all natural". After all, shit is all natural too but I certainly wouldn't eat it. But I figured I would try the supplement combo. If it works, fine. If not, I could use the stuff anyway. Omega 3is good for mental health, and I should have been taking calcium years ago. I'm starting to feel less fatigued, but there's still a strange "sound", if you can call it that, in my head. A sound is not really the right word. You know the sensation in your head right after you get shot up with anesthesia but before you go under? It's like a slight ringing sensation. But I finally dropped three pounds in one 24-hour period with very minimal effort on my part, so it's worth it. I'll take the ringing sensation over not fitting into my jeans any day. Yes- we women are so vain. But I don't care. I want to make sure I'm a good-looking corpse. Ha ha ha. My shrink would definitely over-analyze THAT one. He has no sense of humor.
One good thing about having to be camped at Miele....I've started working on my family tree in earnest. I've made contact with one of Jim's cousins in Italy and we've been trading old photos. I also was on the phone with my Aunt Laura for a couple of hours the other night, and she told me a very touching family story. It has absolutely nothing to do with Jim's and my health, but I thought I would post it here anyway. Hey...it's my blog and I can do whatever I want with it. So here goes: My grandmother's father (I'll call him Mr. Dupper here because his son and he had the same first name and the story would get confusing) came to Hoboken from Amsterdam with his wife, the first Mrs. Dupper. After about a year, his wife decided she really didn't like the United States and she wanted to go back to Amsterdam, but her husband wanted to stay. They couldn't resolve their differences so she left. Shortly after she got back home she realized she was pregnant, but didn't want to tell her husband for fear of pressuring him into leaving the U.S., which she knew he didn;t want to do. A couple of years later she wrote him a letter and informed him that he had a son, whom she named Frank. Mr. and Mrs. Dupper wound up getting divorced, and Mr. Dupper married the second Mrs. Dupper, who was also Dutch, but was already living in Hoboken. The second Mrs. Dupper had a daughter, my paternal grandmother, Louise. Mr. Dupper used to work on the docks in Hoboken loading and unloading cargo from ships. One day, while Louise was very young, Mr. Dupper had a mishap with some of the loading equipment on the dock, and he fell into the water and drowned. They didn't find his body for two days. Now that Mr. Dupper was dead, the second Mrs. Dupper decided to travel to Amsterdam to meet the first Mrs. Dupper and settle her husband's estate. While there, they met each other's children, and decided to purchase a single pair of earrings. They gave each child one of the earrings. The idea behind it was that they wouldn't know where life would possibly take their two children, but if Frank and Louise ever found each other again, they would know that they were brother and sister by the matching of the earrings. When Louise was grown and had children of her own, she was living in Lincoln Park, NJ and of course her kids had grown up hearing the earring story. One day her kids were going through the local phone book, and they said, "Hey Ma...there's a Frank Dupper that lives right in Pequannock....do you think that might be your brother?" and Louise said, "No way. My brother is in Amsterdam." Now I don't know if it was Louise herself who ultimately made contact with this Frank Dupper or if it was one of her kids, but sure enough, that Frank Dupper in Pequannock, only a few miles away, had the other earring. And they stayed very close for the rest of their lives. Both died within the last few years. Nice story, right?
Well, it's after 1 a.m. now and Jim still hasn't called to say he's on his way home. Ay yai yai. Don't expect me to be chipper tomorrow morning.
Jim didn't get his teeth yet. He went to Vanni and Vanni had them set in wax for try-on. He's got to tweak them some more. Because Jim can't open his mouth that wide since his vagus nerve is damaged, Vanni has to create more space between the upper and lower dentures, otherwise there wouldn't be room for food to fit in between the teeth and they would be useless to Jim. He goes back in two weeks. At that time, the teeth will still be set in wax, but if everything looks o.k., Vanni will finally have them set into dentures. So I guess we're talking ANOTHER month.
I think the Lexapro withdrawal is starting to ease up a little for me. I read about some holistic doctor who recommended four supplements for Lexapro withdrawal symptoms, so I tried them. They are "conjugated linoleic acid", "Omega 3 fish oil", "Vitamin E", and "Calcium with magnesium". Now, I'm not typically into supplements or one to tout things that are "all natural". After all, shit is all natural too but I certainly wouldn't eat it. But I figured I would try the supplement combo. If it works, fine. If not, I could use the stuff anyway. Omega 3is good for mental health, and I should have been taking calcium years ago. I'm starting to feel less fatigued, but there's still a strange "sound", if you can call it that, in my head. A sound is not really the right word. You know the sensation in your head right after you get shot up with anesthesia but before you go under? It's like a slight ringing sensation. But I finally dropped three pounds in one 24-hour period with very minimal effort on my part, so it's worth it. I'll take the ringing sensation over not fitting into my jeans any day. Yes- we women are so vain. But I don't care. I want to make sure I'm a good-looking corpse. Ha ha ha. My shrink would definitely over-analyze THAT one. He has no sense of humor.
One good thing about having to be camped at Miele....I've started working on my family tree in earnest. I've made contact with one of Jim's cousins in Italy and we've been trading old photos. I also was on the phone with my Aunt Laura for a couple of hours the other night, and she told me a very touching family story. It has absolutely nothing to do with Jim's and my health, but I thought I would post it here anyway. Hey...it's my blog and I can do whatever I want with it. So here goes: My grandmother's father (I'll call him Mr. Dupper here because his son and he had the same first name and the story would get confusing) came to Hoboken from Amsterdam with his wife, the first Mrs. Dupper. After about a year, his wife decided she really didn't like the United States and she wanted to go back to Amsterdam, but her husband wanted to stay. They couldn't resolve their differences so she left. Shortly after she got back home she realized she was pregnant, but didn't want to tell her husband for fear of pressuring him into leaving the U.S., which she knew he didn;t want to do. A couple of years later she wrote him a letter and informed him that he had a son, whom she named Frank. Mr. and Mrs. Dupper wound up getting divorced, and Mr. Dupper married the second Mrs. Dupper, who was also Dutch, but was already living in Hoboken. The second Mrs. Dupper had a daughter, my paternal grandmother, Louise. Mr. Dupper used to work on the docks in Hoboken loading and unloading cargo from ships. One day, while Louise was very young, Mr. Dupper had a mishap with some of the loading equipment on the dock, and he fell into the water and drowned. They didn't find his body for two days. Now that Mr. Dupper was dead, the second Mrs. Dupper decided to travel to Amsterdam to meet the first Mrs. Dupper and settle her husband's estate. While there, they met each other's children, and decided to purchase a single pair of earrings. They gave each child one of the earrings. The idea behind it was that they wouldn't know where life would possibly take their two children, but if Frank and Louise ever found each other again, they would know that they were brother and sister by the matching of the earrings. When Louise was grown and had children of her own, she was living in Lincoln Park, NJ and of course her kids had grown up hearing the earring story. One day her kids were going through the local phone book, and they said, "Hey Ma...there's a Frank Dupper that lives right in Pequannock....do you think that might be your brother?" and Louise said, "No way. My brother is in Amsterdam." Now I don't know if it was Louise herself who ultimately made contact with this Frank Dupper or if it was one of her kids, but sure enough, that Frank Dupper in Pequannock, only a few miles away, had the other earring. And they stayed very close for the rest of their lives. Both died within the last few years. Nice story, right?
Well, it's after 1 a.m. now and Jim still hasn't called to say he's on his way home. Ay yai yai. Don't expect me to be chipper tomorrow morning.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Sunday January 27, 2008 8:08 PM
By the way....Nick and Judy and Jim's brother Nicky dropped Jimmy home this afternoon, and Jimmy comes walking in holding a pad of scrap paper. On one of the pages is a drawing of a train, which I thought was excellent. I asked who drew it, and it was Jim's brother Nicky, so drawing talent must run in the family. I saved it and am putting it into this blog.
Sunday January 27, 2008 6:00 PM
Jim and I have one theme of the last three weeks: EXHAUSTED. We've been switching off nights and weekends at Miele. Friday night I got home at 2 a.m. It was very dangerous for me to be on the road. I was actually seeing double. I had to drive with one hand over an eye so I would only see ONE set of lines and ONE set of cars ahead of me. God only knows what my driving would have looked like had a cop seen me. But then things would have gotten interesting because I would have flunked walking the straight line but blown a zero on a breathalyser. I actually pulled off the road and took a half-hour nap, but it didn't help.
This wiring in the building was supposed to be finished by LAST weekend, but the crew ran into some supply problems, so here we are. Since they were supposed to be finised, Jim and I had made babysitting arrangements for Jimmy for Saturday night (yesterday) and we were planning on going to my friend Brie's house for game night. Yeah, it's just a bunch of adults hanging around planning Scene It and Scattergories, but it would have been the first night Jim and I had been out together in about a year and a half, and I really wanted to go as a couple and not by myself. But the wiring guys wanted to work late last night and there was only going to be people in the Miele building from 10 a.m. till about 4 p.m., so I was going to cancel my plans, which really had me very upset. The wiring guys had wanted to finish up on Saturday so they could fly home to Illinois today...after all, they've been away from their families for three weeks too, but the wiring crew told me not to cancel my plans. They know Jim's tumor story and they felt bad for me, so they extended their trip. Jim's up at Miele since 10 a.m. today and will be there until about midnight. I told him if he's too tired he should see if his brother Nicky is home and spend the night there. I don't want him almost getting into an accident like I did Friday night. I doubt he'll listen to me, though. I know I wouldn't listen. I'd much rather sleep in my own bed, so I'll take chances.
So we did go to Brie's, but we were both very tired. We slept right through Jimmy's karate class Saturday morning so he missed it, but he'll live.
Turns out Jim's appointment with Vanni was not on January 23, but on Jan 28th, so maybe tomorrow he'll get teeth.
This wiring in the building was supposed to be finished by LAST weekend, but the crew ran into some supply problems, so here we are. Since they were supposed to be finised, Jim and I had made babysitting arrangements for Jimmy for Saturday night (yesterday) and we were planning on going to my friend Brie's house for game night. Yeah, it's just a bunch of adults hanging around planning Scene It and Scattergories, but it would have been the first night Jim and I had been out together in about a year and a half, and I really wanted to go as a couple and not by myself. But the wiring guys wanted to work late last night and there was only going to be people in the Miele building from 10 a.m. till about 4 p.m., so I was going to cancel my plans, which really had me very upset. The wiring guys had wanted to finish up on Saturday so they could fly home to Illinois today...after all, they've been away from their families for three weeks too, but the wiring crew told me not to cancel my plans. They know Jim's tumor story and they felt bad for me, so they extended their trip. Jim's up at Miele since 10 a.m. today and will be there until about midnight. I told him if he's too tired he should see if his brother Nicky is home and spend the night there. I don't want him almost getting into an accident like I did Friday night. I doubt he'll listen to me, though. I know I wouldn't listen. I'd much rather sleep in my own bed, so I'll take chances.
So we did go to Brie's, but we were both very tired. We slept right through Jimmy's karate class Saturday morning so he missed it, but he'll live.
Turns out Jim's appointment with Vanni was not on January 23, but on Jan 28th, so maybe tomorrow he'll get teeth.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Sunday January 20, 2008 11:40 a.m.
Yes, I haven't posted in awhile. Jim and I have been busy. I have a team of people working in the Miele building in Princeton rewiring for CAT5 for the new phone system, and I've been asked to be there to babysit them while they're working late at night and on the weekends. These guys are working twelve hours or more per day plus Saturdays and Sundays. Jim and I have been alternating days to be there, but we're both exhausted. The other day I put my milk in the pantry and my cereal in the refrigerator. Go figure. Luckily I realized what I had done before too much time went by. So don't ask me anything complicated for awhile because God only knows what kind of answer you're going to get out of me. And I'm definitely allergic to something in that building. Last Saturday by around 7 pm I started to wheeze. I don't carry my asthma inhalers with me because my asthma is very slight and I don't need to use them, but from then on I always have them in my purse. And by the time I go home around 9 or 10 pm my sinuses are so bad I'm honking and blowing. I've already been on three allergy medicines a day, but I just switched my Allegra to Zrytec. That's been helping a little, but the switch to Zyrtec knocks you on your ass for about a week until your body gets used to it, so that's definitely not helping my exhaustion factor one bit.
I've decided I'm going to taper off my Lexapro. I had a problem with alocpecia (hair loss) a couple of years back, but the hair started to grow back in over the last year. Now the hair is falling out again and I've read that Lexapro can cause this problem. My face is also starting to look old. I'm way too vain to have this stuff happen to me, so screw the post-traumatic stress. I'll be more stressed if I look horrible, so bye-bye Lexapro. I've also put a few pounds on that I can't shake. I tried on a pair of pants last week that I hadn't worn in six months. They used to be big on me. They weren't big anymore. I started back on weight watchers counting my points. I'd go down two pounds, up one, down one, up two. My shrink told me that the average person on Lexapro puts on 2.5 pounds per year. I'm not having it. I'd rather be thin.
Jim goes back to Dr. Vanni on Wednesday. That guy had better have teeth ready for him by then. I'm going to blast his ass if he doesn't. Jim is not the typical guy waiting for his dentures. As he waits, his swallowing deteriorates. He's coughing more. I can't have this. Can't Vanni understand this? After all, Jim's teeth got pulled November 5th. It's almost February for Christ sake! Let's go already!
I've decided I'm going to taper off my Lexapro. I had a problem with alocpecia (hair loss) a couple of years back, but the hair started to grow back in over the last year. Now the hair is falling out again and I've read that Lexapro can cause this problem. My face is also starting to look old. I'm way too vain to have this stuff happen to me, so screw the post-traumatic stress. I'll be more stressed if I look horrible, so bye-bye Lexapro. I've also put a few pounds on that I can't shake. I tried on a pair of pants last week that I hadn't worn in six months. They used to be big on me. They weren't big anymore. I started back on weight watchers counting my points. I'd go down two pounds, up one, down one, up two. My shrink told me that the average person on Lexapro puts on 2.5 pounds per year. I'm not having it. I'd rather be thin.
Jim goes back to Dr. Vanni on Wednesday. That guy had better have teeth ready for him by then. I'm going to blast his ass if he doesn't. Jim is not the typical guy waiting for his dentures. As he waits, his swallowing deteriorates. He's coughing more. I can't have this. Can't Vanni understand this? After all, Jim's teeth got pulled November 5th. It's almost February for Christ sake! Let's go already!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Monday January 7, 2008 10:20 PM
Ah well....Jim still has no teeth. He saw Dr. Vanni on Friday and all the guy did was the "bite test" and there was no trying on of teeth yet. Apparently they need to do this bite test so they get the upper and lower dentures lined up to match your bite, otherwise they won't fit properly. Normally I would have grilled Dr. Vanni for more details the last time we were there, but since we're no longer talking about a matter of life or death, I'm too tired. I figure this guy is a prosthodontic specialist and he knows what he's doing. WHATEVER. Vanni says Jim should have a set of teeth to try on in about a month's time. Jim goes back the last week of January. The bite test revealed that Jim has one heck of an overbite, but I guess it's too late for braces now...ha ha ha. Hey, at least we're saving money on toothpaste.
I've got to now check with Horizon Blue Cross on what we need to do to get Jim in for more Vital Stim therapy. He's noticed some deterioration with his swallowing now that he's gone so long with no teeth. It's such an ugly "chicken or the egg" type scenario that we're in the middle of. Needs the swallow therapy...needs the teeth first...the teeth are taking forever...what to do? Absolutely nothing. I really wish Vanni would hurry this shit along. Can't he see that Jim's a little different case than the average Joe who needs teeth? He can't have therapy without getting teeth first, but his swallowing is deteriorating while we're waiting. Jim says he promises to tell me if things are really getting bad, but that's bullshit. He would let his problem go on forever and tell me about it after it's all over...this would be him a year from now..."Gee, I really couldn't swallow at all for awhile there so I'm so glad this is all over now," and I'd be totally pissed that he kept that a secret from me.
So here's another one of Jim's creations. This is how he feels with no teeth...REDNECK JIM.
I've got to now check with Horizon Blue Cross on what we need to do to get Jim in for more Vital Stim therapy. He's noticed some deterioration with his swallowing now that he's gone so long with no teeth. It's such an ugly "chicken or the egg" type scenario that we're in the middle of. Needs the swallow therapy...needs the teeth first...the teeth are taking forever...what to do? Absolutely nothing. I really wish Vanni would hurry this shit along. Can't he see that Jim's a little different case than the average Joe who needs teeth? He can't have therapy without getting teeth first, but his swallowing is deteriorating while we're waiting. Jim says he promises to tell me if things are really getting bad, but that's bullshit. He would let his problem go on forever and tell me about it after it's all over...this would be him a year from now..."Gee, I really couldn't swallow at all for awhile there so I'm so glad this is all over now," and I'd be totally pissed that he kept that a secret from me.
So here's another one of Jim's creations. This is how he feels with no teeth...REDNECK JIM.
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